Landslide
by woods2006gal
Summary: Seventh in Addison Sloan series. the wall in Sam's head broken, Addison's pregnancy, and a new monster to fight, how will the trio handle all the challenges thrown their way?
1. Meet the Boss

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Chapter 01 - Meet the Boss

The tension in the room was so thick that it felt like it was suffocating her. Addison looks between Dean and Castiel. She glances at Bobby and watches as the older hunter kneels down. "Well, all right then," Bobby says. "Is this good or you want the whole forehead to the carpet thing? Guys?"

Addison starts to kneel down with Dean and Sam. "Stop," Castiel says. "What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me. Not love, not respect, just fear."

"Cas..." Sam begins, taking a step forward."

Castiel turns to Sam. "Sam, you have nothing to say to me; you stabbed me in the back." He turns back to Bobby, Addison, and Dean. "Get up."

Dean stands up. "Cas, come on, this isn't you."

"The Castiel you knew is gone."

"So, are you going to kill us then," Addison nervously asks.

Castiel stares at her. "What a brave little ant you are. You know you're powerless, you wouldn't dare move against me again. That would be pointless. So, I have no need to kill you. Not now. Besides...once you were my favorite pets before you turned and bit me."

"Who are you," Dean questions.

"I'm God. And if you stay in your place, you may live in my kingdom. If you rise up, I will strike you down. Not doing so well, are you, Sam."

"I'm fine," Sam answers. "I'm fine."

An angry look crosses Dean's face. "You said you would fix him - you promised!"

"If you stood down, which you hardly did. Be thankful for my mercy. I could have cast you back into the pit."

"Cas, come on, this is nuts! You can turn this around, please!"

"I hope for your sake this is the last time you see me," Castiel tells them, then disappears.

Addison lets out relived breath. She places a protective hand over her flat stomach. She looks at the guys and sees them lost in their own thoughts. Her gaze darts back over to Sam and sees his nose bleed. "Sam," she softly asks, concern laced in her voice.

"Sam, you okay," Dean asks him. Suddenly, Sam falls down cutting his hand on broken glass. The three hunters surround him, each with worried looks on their faces.

* * *

The toilet flushes. Addison looks at her reflection in the dusty mirror. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. Dean had devoted all of his time and energy to restoring the Impala, which meant they had barely talked. She had told Bobby of her pregnancy and the older hunter nodded before returning to his research. "Ads."

She turns to see Sam standing in the bathroom doorway. He had woken up the day before. Addison smiles and hugs him. His hug is tight and she closes her eyes, savoring the moment. He pulls backs, but keeps his hands on her. "I didn't get to see you yesterday," Sam says.

"I might have been at the doctor's or asleep," Addison answers. She takes a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

He steps back. "Does Dean know?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet. I just...I wanted to be sure before I said anything to him. I found out before I got tossed around the car by a cloud. Anyways, how are you?"

"I'm good, Ads. Just a headache, but I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. So, I'm gonna be a uncle, huh?"

Addison leans against the sink. "Oh God, I'm gonna be someone's mother."

Sam pulls her into another hug and she relishes it. "There's nothing for you to worry about. You're gonna be a great mom, Ads."

"I'm glad someone thinks that. Oh and, by the way, given our nomad lifestyle, you will be third on the list for three am diaper changes."

* * *

"Believe to be target hits high up in white supremacy organizations," the radio announcer says. "The FBI now believes the Ku Klux Klan has been forced to disband." Over the past few days, they kept hearing about the things that Castiel was doing.

Dean shakes his head. He was sitting in Impala, working on the new passenger side window. "Can't argue with that one."

"Hey." He looks to see Addison standing next to the door. She held a plate of apple pie in one hand and a bottle of his favorite beer in the other. "How's it going," she asks, setting the plate and beer down on the work bench.

"Fine," Dean answers, climbing out of the Impala. He eyes the pie and the beer.

Addison clears her throat. "So...I'm pregnant."

Dean blinks. "I'm sorry, you're what?"

"Pregnant."

"How?"

"Well, Dean, that, uh, fun, amazing, often times mind blowing activity-"

"Ads."

Addison sighs. "I don't know. I honestly don't know. I mean, the only one hundred percent effective birth control is not to have sex and it's way too much fun to give up. I tired to be as OCD about it as much as I could, but there's only so much I could do."

Dean leans against the Impala. He never expected this. Especially after everything that happened with Lisa and Ben. And with everything else going on, this was probably the worst time to have a kid. But hearing the news from Addison, it felt right. He walks over to her and presses his lips against hers. It's slow and soft and filled with everything that he couldn't put into words. She pulls back and smiles at him.

* * *

"Freak lightning strike on the heels of the fire that burned down the Center for Vibration Enlightenment today. Said a spokesman, 'This tragedy represent the largest loss in New Age motivational speaker history,'" an announcer says over the radio.

Sam frowns and looks at Dean over the Impala's hood. "Motivational speakers?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure new Cas gets irony any better than old Cas," Dean replies as Sam turns off the radio. Dean moves out from under the hood and gently lowers it. "Of course, old Cas wouldn't smite Madison Square Garden just to prove a point. He is off the deep end of the deep end. And there's no slowing down."

"So what? Try to talk to him again?"

"Sam-"

"Dean, all we can do is talk to the guy."

"He's not a guy, he's God. And he's pissed. And when God gets righteous, you get the hell out of the way. Haven't you read the Bible?"

Sam sighs. "I guess."

"Cas is never coming back. He's lied to us, used us, he cracked your gourd like it was nothing. No more talk. We've spent enough on him."

"Okay."

"Hand me that socket wrench."

Sam grabs the wrench off the work table. "So, you and Ads are having a kid, huh?"

Dean nods, turning his attention back to the Impala. "Yeah. Timing sucks, but, uh, we're having a kid."

* * *

A month goes by with the hunters laying low. Dean devoted most of his time to restoring the Impala with Sam and Bobby pitching in at times. They all kept a close watch on what Castiel was doing through the news. "She's looking good. Considering," Bobby comments as he stands in the shed with Dean and Addison looking at a ready to be painted Impala.

"Considering," Dean repeats, taking a beer from the older hunter. "I should do this professionally."

"It would pay a hell of a lot better," Addison says.

Dean nods in agreement as he opens his beer. "So, you seen Sam lately," Bobby asks.

"Yeah, why," Dean replies. Bobby remains silent and Dean looks at him. "What? Well, spit it out."

Bobby sighs. "How is that kid even vertical? I mean, Cas broke his damn pinata."

"I know."

"I mean, I get how he came to help up back at the lab. Adrenaline. Sure. But now?"

"Well, he says he's okay."

"How?"

"I don't know. I just pray to God it's true."

"We need to come up with a new saying for that."

"Seriously, though, Bobby. I mean, look at our lives. How many more hits can we take? So if Sam says he's good, good."

"You believe that?"

"Yeah." Bobby stares at him. "No," Dean confesses. "You wanna know why? Because we never catch a break. So why would we this time? But just - just this one thing, you know? But I'm not dumb. I'm not gonna get my hopes up just to get kicked in the daddy pills again."

"Hey." They turn and see Sam making his way into the shed.

"Oh. How you feeling, sport," Bobby asks.

"Can't complain," Sam replies.

"Great. What's the word," Dean asks.

"Well, a publishing house literally exploded about an hour ago. Guys, the body count is really getting up there. We gotta do something."

"What we gotta do is hunt the son of bitch. Unfortunately, I lost my God gun," Bobby says.

"Well, is there some kind of heavenly weapon? I mean, maybe something out of that angel arsenal that Balthazar stole? There's gotta be something that can hurt him."

"He's God, Sam," Dean reminds. "There's nothing. But there might be someone."

* * *

Addison lights the match and tosses it into the bowl of herbs as the hunters stand around Bobby's basement. Instantly, Crowley appears in the devil's trap that was painted on the floor. A bottle of whiskey and a glass were in his hands. The demon looks around. "No. No, no," he exclaims. "Come on."

"Don't act so surprised," Bobby tells him.

"My new boss is gonna kill me for even talking to you lot."

Dean glares. "You're lucky we're not stabbing you, you scuzzy piece-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam interrupts. "What new boss?"

"Castiel, you giraffe," Crowley answers.

"Cas is your boss," Addison replies.

"He's everybody's boss. What do you think he'll do when he finds out we've been conspiring?" The hunters stare at the demon. "You do wanna conspire, don't you?"

"No. We want you to stand there and look pretty," Bobby snaps.

Crowley nods. "Listening."

"We need a spell to bind Death," Dean says.

"Bind," Crowley repeats. "Enslave Death? You having a laugh?"

"Lucifer did it."

"That's Lucifer."

"A spell is a spell," Sam argues.

"You really believe you can handle that horsepower?"

"Death is the only player left that has the kind of juice to take Cas," Dean counters.

"They'll both mash us like peas. Why should I hep on a suicide mission?"

"Do you really want Cas running the universe," Addison asks. Crowley's response is to pour some whiskey in his glass and drink it.

* * *

The next day, the trio are sitting around the den, researching, when Bobby enters the room with a Fed-Ex envelope. He opens it and pulls out a piece of parchment as the trio walks over to him. "It's from Crowley," Bobby says, showing Dean the parchment that had a post it on it.

"Well, who feels like hog tying Death tonight," Dean asks.

Bobby shrugs. "Old age is overrated anyhow."

A few hours later, they're spread out over the den, researching. "We got most of this stuff, but we have to make a run for a few things," Bobby says, breaking the silence.

"Like," Dean questions.

"Like an act of God crystallized forever."

"What's that supposed to mean," Sam asks.

"Thinking it means an actual crystal. See, lighting strikes sand at the right angle, it crystallizes into the perfect shape of itself."

"Lightning. Act of God."

"Jenga. You got yourself a fulgurite. We're gonna need a biggie."

"And let me guess. Rare," Dean says.

"I found the records of an auction. Winning bidder lives about nine hours from here."

* * *

The people who owned the crystal lived in a large stone house in a large suburban neighborhood. Sam, Bobby, and Addison climb out of the Impala and make their way to the house. Sam and Addison stand guard while Bobby cuts the security system. "Hey." The group turns and sees a security guard.

"Excuse me, got any Grey Poupon," Dean asks, walking up behind the guard. The guard turns and Dean slams his flashlight into the guard's face.

The guard falls to the ground, unconscious. Sam and Addison stare in disbelief at Dean. "Grey Poupon? Seriously," Sam asks.

Dean shrugs. "It's what popped in my head."

Addison rolls her eyes and turns back. After Bobby finishes disabling the security system, the group makes their way into the house and splits up. Sam shoots Addison a concerned look when she stops and closes her eyes. She nods and pushes past him. Coming up empty handed, they met up with Bobby before going to look for Dean.

They find him in the den, finishing tying up a middle aged couple. "Hey, guys," Dean greets. "Uh, so this is Dr. and Mrs. Weiss."

"Hi," Sam says, glaring at Dean.

"I found the God thingy."

Bobby brushes past him and places a duffle bag on a large oak desk. "Well, let's light this candle."

After getting everything set up for the spell, Bobby chants in Latin. The house rumbles with some of the glass cases breaking and books falling off shelves. Then it suddenly stops. "Um...hello? Death," Dean calls, looking around the room.

"You're joking," Death says, appearing in the room behind Dean.

Dean spins around. "Sorry, Death. This isn't what it seems."

"Seems like you bound me," Death argues, holding up his hands to reveal a shimmering rope.

"For good reason, okay? Just, uh, hear us out. Um...Fried pickle chip," Dean asks, moving to grab a paper bag off an end table. "The best in the state."

"That easy to soothe me, you think? This is about Sam's hallucinations, I assume?"

The hunters glance at Sam. "What," Dean asks, looking between his brother and Death.

"Sorry, Sam, one wall per customer. Now unbind me."

"We can't," Sam tells him. "Yet."

"This isn't gonna end well," Death tells Dean.

"We need you to kill God," Dean replies.

"Pardon?"

"Kill God," Bobby repeats. "You heard right, Your Honor."

"What makes you think I can do that?"

"You told me," Dean snaps.

Death turns to Dean. "Why should I?"

"Because we said so and we're the boss of you." Dean ignores the three disbelievingly looks sent his way. "I mean, respectfully."

"Amazing." The hunters turn and see Castiel standing there. His face was red and it looked as if pieces of skin were peeling off.

"Cas," Addison nervously greets, backing away from the former angel.

"I don't want to kill you. But now-"

"You can't kill us," Dean interrupts.

Castiel raises a hand."You've erased any nostalgia I had for you, Dean."

"Death is our bitch. We ain't gonna die even if God pulls the trigger."

"Annoying little protozoa, aren't they," Death comments. "God? You look awfully like a mutated angel to me. Your vessel is melting. You're going to explode."

"No, I'm not," Castiel argues. "When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself."

"You think you can, because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory and you gulped those in too."

"Irrelevant. I control them."

"For the moment."

"Wait. Uh, what old things," Dean questions, looking between Castiel and Death.

"Long before God created angel or man, he made the first beasts," Death explains. "The Leviathans."

"Leviathans?"

"I personally found them entertaining, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire Petri dish. So he locked them away. Why do you think he created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now, Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the Old Ones and your home."

"Enough," Castiel orders.

"Stupid little soldier you are."

Castiel moves towards Death. "Why? Because I dared open a door that He shut? Where is He? I did a service taking His place."

"Service? Settling petty vendettas?"

"No. I'm cleaning up one mess after another, selflessly."

"Quite the humanitarian."

"And how would you know? What are you really? A flyswatter?"

"Destined to swat you, I think."

"Unless I take you first."

"Really bought his own press, this one," Death tells the hunters. "Please, Cas, I know God. And you, sir, are no God."

"All right, put your junk away, both of you. Look, call him what you want, just kill him now," Dean demands. Castiel slowly turns and looks at Dean.

"All right, fine," Death says, raising a hand. Castiel snaps his fingers and the shimmering rope around Death's wrists vanishes. "Thank you. Shall we kickbox now?" Death walks over to a chair and sits down. "I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon." He glances at the terrified couple tied up across the room. "Don't worry, not you." Castiel vanishes and they stare at the spot he was standing at. "Well, he was in a hurry."

The hunters exchange a look. They were all confused about what to do. "Do something," Addison mouths to Dean.

Dean clears his throat. "Um..."

"Shut up, Dean," Death says. "I'm not here to tie your shoes every time you trip. I warned you about those souls how long ago? Long enough to stop that fool. And here we are again, with your little planet on the edge of immolation."

"Well, I'm sorry, all right," Dean replies as Death stands up. "I've been trying to save this planet. So maybe you should find somebody better to tip off."

"Maybe I should spend my effort on a better planet. Well, it's been amusing."

"Wait, hold on," Sam says, stepping forward. Death looks at him. "Give us something. You have to care a little bit about what happens to us."

"You know, I really don't. But I do find that little angel arrogant."

"Great, let's go with that," Dean says.

"Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly."

"We need a door," Addison reminds.

"You have everything you need at that lab. Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power."

"Compel," Dean disbelievingly repeats.

"Figure it out."

"But that door only opens in the eclipse. And that's over," Bobby comments.

"I'll make another. Three fifty-nine, Sunday morning, just before dawn. Be punctual." Death turns to Dean. "Don't thank me. Clean up your mess." Death starts to walk away, but stops. "Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start. Nice pickle chips, by the way."

* * *

Dean's sitting at the table in Bobby's kitchen with Addison's laptop and a bottle of whiskey. If the world was gonna end, he was gonna spend it relaxing the best he could. "You want some coffee with that," Sam asks, entering the kitchen with his pack over his shoulder and a jacket.

Dean shrugs. "Ah, it's six p.m. somewhere."

"We gotta hit the road. I mean, how are we supposed to get Cas to that lab by fucking 3:59 a.m.?"

"We don't."

Sam stares at his older brother in disbelief. "What do you we mean 'we don't?'"

"I mean we can't bring the horse to water and we can't make it drink. Why fool ourselves?"

"Dean, look. I know you think that Cas is gone."

"That's because he is."

"He's not. He's in there somewhere, Dean. I know it."

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't. But, look, I was pretty far gone sometimes myself and you never gave up on me."

"Yeah, and turns out that you're about the same open book as you've always been. Hallucinations? Really? I gotta find out from Death?"

Sam shifts. "What was I supposed to do?"

"How 'bout not lie? How 'bout tell me that you've got crazy shit climbing those walls?"

"Why? You can't help. You got a lot of pretty severe shit swinging your way lately and I - I thought - what - I thought why burst one of the good bubbles you had left? It's under control."

"What? What exactly is under control?"

"I know what's real, what's not."

Dean shakes his head, angry. "Sam-"

"Dean, look, we can debate this once we deal with Cas."

Dean nods. "You know how I'm gonna deal? I'm gonna stuff my pie hole, I'm gonna drink. And I'm gonna watch some Asian cartoon porn and act like the world is about to explode because it is." He turns back to the laptop and finds that a news website had popped up. "Hey. You gotta be kidding me." Sam walks around and sees the video of Castiel on the screen. "'Massacre at the campaign office of an incumbent senator by a trench coated man.' There's security footage." Dean plays the video and the brothers watch as Castiel eerily smiles up at the surveillance camera before it flickers out. Dean picks up his whiskey and drinks. "Well, I think reaching Cas is, uh, out of the cards." Sam sighs and walks out of the kitchen as Dean switches back to the cartoon porn.

A couple of hours later, Addison enters the kitchen to find Dean sitting at the table with her laptop and a glass of whiskey in his hand. She stares at him for a moment, then shakes her head and moves over to the sink. "Why are you watching porn on my computer," she tiredly asks.

"Did you forget that the world's ending," Dean replies.

Sam walks and Dean pours him a glass of whiskey. "Only if you turn that off," he tells his older brother.

Dean reluctantly shuts the laptop and slides the whiskey across the table. Sam sighs and sits down. "Sam?" The hunters turn at the familiar voice and see Castiel. The former angel was covered in blood.

"Cas," Sam says, standing.

"I heard your call." Castiel collapses against the wall. He looks up at his friends. "I need help."

* * *

By the time they get Castiel to the lab, his condition had worsened. Sam and Addison rest the angel against an old cabinet while Dean and Bobby prepare the rest of the spell. "We need the right blood. There's a small jar. End of the hall, supply closet," Castiel tells them.

Sam nods. "Got it," he says, then walks out of the lab.

"Dean."

Dean turns to his friend. "What, you need something else?"

"No. I feel regret. About you and what I did to Sam."

"Yeah, well, you should."

"If there was time, if I was strong enough, I'd fix him now. I just wanted to make amends before I die."

"Okay."

Castiel pauses. "Is it working?"

"Does it make you feel better?"

"No. You?"

"Not a bit."

Castiel turns to Addison, who was still kneeling next to him and had a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations on your child."

"Oh, thank you," Addison replies. She squeezes his shoulder. "Hang in there, Cas. We don't have long left."

Bobby nods in agreement as he makes his way over to Dean. "Where's Sam? It's go time," he quietly says.

Dean looks around the lab before walking out. The hallway was empty. He stops when he finds a jar of blood on the ground. "Sam," he calls out, but there's no answer. "Damn it." He grabs the jar and makes his way back to the lab. He immediately gets to work drawing the symbol needed for the spell.

"Good enough," Bobby says as he finishes. He and Addison help Castiel stand. They guide him over to the symbol, then quickly back away as Dean joins them. Bobby reads out the ritual while the others look on.

Dean rushes forward when Castiel collapses and pulls the angel upright. The symbol starts glowing on the wall and Castiel looks back them. "I'm sorry, Dean," the angel tells them as wind picks up.

Bobby finishes reading the ritual and the wall opens up. A bright light shoots out Castiel's chest and into the hole. The light suddenly vanishes and Castiel falls to the ground. "Cas," Dean questions as the hunters run over to him. They kneel on the ground and Dean rolls Castiel onto his back.

Addison touches Castiel's neck. "He's cold," she states.

"Is he breathing," Dean asks, reaching up to check.

"No."

"Maybe angels don't need to breathe."

"He's gone, Dean," Bobby replies.

Addison places a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "Damn it," Dean quietly says, looking away. They stand up and look down at their fallen friend. "Cas, you child. Why didn't you listen to me?" Castiel's eye open and the wounds on his face disappear. "Cas?" Dean and Bobby help the angel sit up.

"That was unpleasant," Castiel says.

"Let's get him up," Dean tells Bobby and they pull Castiel up.

Castiel looks around. "I'm alive."

"Apparently," Addison comments.

"I'm astonished. Thank you. All of you."

"We were mostly just trying to save the world," Bobby tells him.

"I'm ashamed. I really overreached."

Dean scoffs. "You think?"

"I'm gonna find some way to redeem myself to you."

"All right, well, one thing at time. Come on, let's get you out of here."

"I mean it, Dean."

"Okay. All right. But let's go find Sam."

Castiel shoves them forward. "You need to run. I can't hold them back."

"Hold who back," Addison asks.

A growling noise comes from Castiel's stomach. "They held on inside me. They're so strong."

Bobby frowns. "Who the hell-"

"Leviathan." The hunters exchange worried looks. "I can't fight them! Run!"

"Go get Sam," Dean orders, shoving Addison and Bobby towards the door. "Go get Sam!"

"Too late."

Dean turns to see Castiel upright. Bobby stops at the door and stares. The look on his face was eerie. "Cas?"

Castiel grabs Dean's jacket and pulls him close. He could that Castiel was no longer in the body. "Cas is, hmm. He's gone. He's dead. We run the show now," the monster announces. The leviathan tosses Dean across the lab, then makes his way over to Bobby and does the same. He looks at the hunters in front of him. "Now, this is going to be so much fun."


	2. Hello, Cruel World

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Chapter 02 - Hello, Cruel World

Dean stares up at the creature inhabiting Castiel's vessel. The veins on it's neck were black. "Bobby," he asks, as the leviathan walks over to the older hunter. Bobby sits up and stares at the monster. "How many of you ass clowns are in there? Hundred? More?" Dean notices black ooze dripping from the leviathan's sleeve. "Your vessel is gonna explode, ain't it? Wouldn't do anything too strenuous. In face, I'd call it a day, head on home, huh?"

"We'll be back for you," the leviathan declares, then walks out of the lab.

"Well, this is a new one," Bobby comments. He exchanges a look with Dean before they stand and run out of the lab.

They come across Sam standing in a corner. Dean didn't like the look on his younger brother's face. "Sam," he says. "Sam. Sam, you hearing me?" Sam gasps and jumps. Dean places a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Look at me. Hey. All right, we gotta button this up. Come on. Let's find Ads and get out of here."

Elsewhere in the lab, Addison cautiously steps out alcove she had hidden in when Castiel had passed. A hand grabs her shoulder and she spins around to see Dean, Sam, and Bobby standing there. She lets out an annoyed huff. "Can we get the hell out of here?"

The hunters make their way out of the lab and catch up just in time to see the creature formerly known as Castiel walk into a water reservoir. He disappears under the water and a whirlpool appears. Blackness shoots out from the whirlpool, then vanishes. "Aw, hell," Boy comments.

"Damn it," Dean says.

"You said it. Those...whatever you call 'ems..."

"Leviathan," Addison supplies.

"Right. If they're in the pipes, they got themselves a highway to anywhere."

Dean scoffs. "Awesome." He walks to the water's edge and picks up the dirty trench coat that had floated over. "Okay. So he's gone."

"Yup. Rest in peace. If that's in the cards."

Dean gingerly folds the trench coat. "Dumb son of a bitch."

"Well, he was friends with us, wasn't he? Can't get much dumber than that. Come on, those things will be coming up for air soon."

* * *

"Sammy. Sammy," Dean says, touching his younger brother's shoulder. Sam shoots from the couch and looks around Bobby's living room. "Hey, whoa. That's twelve hours straight. I'm calling that rested." Dean holds out a bottle of water and a protein bar. "Here, hydrate. And, uh, protein-ate."

"Breakfast in bed," Sam replies.

Dean grabs a chair and pulls it over. "Don't get used to it. Let me see that hand." He doesn't miss Sam looking past his shoulder as he takes his younger brother's hand. The cut on Sam's hand was lightly red, but in their line of work it was better than the alternative. "Ah, you'll live." He grabs a bottle of whiskey and rag off Bobby's desk. "Here." Sam grunts at the pain. "All right, take it easy."

"So, ooze invasion. Any leads," Sam asks as Bobby enters the room.

"I got my all feelers out," Bobby replies, switching seats with Dean. "Whatever they're up to, it ain't about going Mothra down Main Street. They'll turn up." He wraps Sam's hand up with fresh gauze and looks at him. "You seem pretty eager to stretch your legs, you know."

"Yeah, well, now onto our other big problem," Dean says. "How're you doing? Ad do not say okay."

"I'm not okay," Sam confesses.

Dean glares. "You think?"

"Hey. Go a little easy," Bobby tells him.

"There's nothing easy, about it, Bobby, okay. We acted like he had everything under control."

"I get it. I'm sorry," Sam says. "Look, I - I didn't exactly want to crack up, you know?"

"What the hell happened back there?"

Sam pauses. "Well, it's not just flashbacks anymore."

"Well, then what?"

"It's more like...I'm seeing through the cracks."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm having a difficult time figuring out what's real."

"Hallucinations," Dean asks.

"For starters."

"Well for starters, if you're tripping Hell's bells, why would you hide that?"

"I wasn't hiding it, Dean. I - I was just not talking about it. I mean, it seemed like you three had enough going on as it was. Look, I - I figured, try to hold onto the safety bar and ride it out, you know? But it's getting more specific."

"As in specially what?"

As Sam finishes telling them about Lucifer and his never ending taunts, Dean stands and pours a couple glasses of whiskey. Addison enters the room, clutching a bottle of water. "What the hell, Sam," Dean asks, handing Bobby one of the glasses. Addison plops down on the couch next to Sam.

"I told you."

"I mean, seriously, how do you - how do you argue with that?"

"I know. It's a problem."

"No, wait, I got it. Why would the Devil holodeck you a whole new life when he could just kick your ass all over the cage?"

"Cause as he puts it 'you can't torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away.'"

"Okay, fine. But this Malibu dream mansion that he - he - he makes for you to take away is this this post apocalyptic mess?"

Addison frowns when Sam looks towards a corner of the room. "Sam, are you seeing him right now?" Sam nods.

"You know that he's not real, right," Dean tells him.

"He says that same thing about you," Sam replies. Dean exchanges a look with Addison and Bobby.

Bobby sighs, standing up. "I'm going back to work." No one says anything as the older hunter leaves the room.

* * *

Dean glances into the living room where Sam's sitting at Bobby's desk, taking apart his gun. "Well, at least he's not curled up under the sink," Bobby comments, turning back his attention back to his computer.

"Yeah, no, he's just sitting there silently field stripping his weapon," Dean replies. He watches Sam for a moment, then moves around the table and takes Sam's phone out of his jacket.

"What are you doing," Addison asks, sitting down with a sandwich and bottle of water.

"Turning on his GPS, case he decided to fly the cuckoo's nest."

"And how are you doing?"

"Seriously, Ads, it's ain't like he's hexed, you know? I mean, what if it's the kind of crazy you can't fix?"

Addison sighs. "Dean, we're worried too. But...humor us. How are you?"

"Who cares? Don't you think our mailbox is a little full right now? I'm fine."

Bobby unconvincingly nods. "Right. And weren't you pissed at him when he said the same thing just a couple hours before he spilled his marbles all over the floor?"

"Yeah, well...I'm not Sam, okay," Dean says, moving over to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. "I keep my marbles in a lead fucking box. I'm fine. Really."

"Of course. Yeah. You just lost one of the best friends you ever had, your brother's in the bell jar, and Purgatory's most wanted are surfing the sewer lines, but yeah, yeah, I get it. You're - you're fine."

"Good."

"Course, if at any time you want to decided that utter horse shit, well, I'll be where I always am. Right here."

"What, you want to do couples' yoga or you want to get back to hunting the big bads?"

"Shut up. Idjit."

* * *

"Hey there Gunga Din, buck up," Bobby greets as Dean enters the kitchen carrying an armful of groceries. He and Sam were sitting at the table, doing research while Addison was taking a nap on the couch.

"So it looks like we got some bad news for a change," Sam says. "Stockville North Kansas, most of a high school swim team got mangled to death in their locker room."

Dean walks over and looks at Bobby's computer screen while the older hunter grabs a cup of coffee. "Cop talk on the wire's kind of garbled, saying it looks like some kind of wild animal attack. They're saying that whatever attacked them's about the size of a linebacker."

"It's a lead, Dean."

Dean turns to Sam. "All right, but if you think you're going out on a hunt-"

"No, I know. I'm not. But you are. Look, Bobby's running the hub, I'm - I'm 5150'd, which leaves you and Ads to follow this thing up."

"Sam, you're in the middle of a psychotic break."

"It's a couple hours' drive, Dean, and it could be a Leviathan thing."

"Nah, if you think I'm leaving you here alone-"

"Hey," Bobby snaps. "What am I? Chopped brains on toast? I can eyeball the kid. Go. Work off some of these nerves on something useful."

Dean looks between his brother and Bobby. "Fine."

* * *

Addison wrinkles her nose as she and Dean make their way towards the locker room. Dean catches the look. "You're not gonna puke again, are you?"

"No," Addison replies. "But I could really go for a pineapple smoothie."

Dean shakes his head. They find a crime scene team collecting evidence from the bloodied locker room. They pull out their fake badges and show them to the officer. "Hi. Special Agents Anderson and Noble."

The crime scene tech waves them in. "Our point cop's out on the donut. Forensics. I can show you the layout. And step lightly. We got a whole bunch of NC17 shit right over there."

"Lovely," Addison mutters, carefully moving across the room.

Dean spots the black ooze on a wall. "Damn it."

* * *

"Well, we are positive for ick," Dean says after Sam finally picks up the phone. He and Addison were in the Impala, heading back towards Sioux Falls. "Same kind of stuff that came out of Cas, and, uh, two of the swim kids were missing - they stole one of their parents' cars."

"So you think these, um, these Leviathan things just jump into people? Like Eve did," Sam questions over the speaker phone.

"I don't know, it makes sense, right? Anyway, uh, state trooper's got surveillance cam on the kids about six hours old, of them gassing up just south of Dakota line, so we're headed back your way. We'll just track them from Bobby's."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Hey. How you doing?"

"You know, uh, okay," Sam replies after a moment.

"Okay. Well hang in there, all right," Dean tells him, then snaps his phone shut. He could feel Addison's gaze on him. "Don't. Okay? I'me fine."

Addison nods. "Okay. Fine. I won't. But I'm all ears."

Silence settles over the Impala for the rest of the drive. "Sam," Dean calls out as they enter Bobby's house. There's no answer. "Sammy? Sam?" He turns when Addison walks out of the kitchen. She shakes her head. A mixture of worry and anger crosses his face. "All right, uh, stay here. Wait for Bobby."

"Yeah, no problem," Addison replies as Dean makes his way out of the house.

* * *

"Ah, this can't be good," Dean mutters to himself as he pulls up in front of an abandoned warehouse. A black van was parked near an entrance. He parks the Impala and climbs out before making his way into the warehouse. "Sam? Sam?" Sam was standing in the middle of the room, a gun in his hand. "Sam, what are you doing?" Sam aims his gun at Dean and Dean holds up his hands. "Whoa, whoa."

"I was with you, Dean," Sam terrifyingly replies.

"Okay. Well, here I am."

"No. No, I don't - I..." Sam glances to the empty space next to him. "I can't know that for sure. You understand me?"

"Okay, then we're gonna have to start small."

"I don't remember driving here." Sam looks over and shoots the wall.

"Whoa, whoa, Sam! This discussion does not require a weapons discharge." Sam lowers his gun as Dean cautiously moves towards him. "Look at me. Come on. You don't know what's real? Look, man, I've been to Hell, okay? I know a thing or two about torture. Enough to know that it feels different than the pain of this - this regular stupid shitty this."

"No. How can you know that for sure?"

"Let me see your hand." Sam starts to lift his good hand. "No, no, no. The gimp hand. Let me see it." Sam looks behind him and Dean grabs his injured hand. Sam turns back to Dean. "Hey. This is real. Not a year ago, not in Hell. Now. I was with you when you cut it. I sewed it up. Look." Dean presses down on the cut and Sam hisses in pain. "This is different, right? Than the shit that's tearing at your walnut? I'm different. Right?"

Sam rips his hand out of Dean's grasp. "Yeah, I think so."

Dean grows more when Sam looks off into space. "Sam? Sam?" He watches as his younger brother presses hard enough on the cut to cause to start bleeding again. "Hey, I am your flesh-and-blood brother, okay? I'm the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time. You got away. We got you out, Sammy." Sam presses his cut once more. "Believe in that. Believe me, okay? You gotta believe me. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it. You understand?"

Sam nods. "Yeah. Yeah, agreed." A ringing cell phone breaks the moment and Sam takes out his phone. "Bobby, hey...Leviathan here?" Sam hangs up his phone and looks at Dean. "Bobby's got a live one."

"Okay. Well, let's go."

* * *

The Impala speeds back towards Bobby's house. Dean clenches the steering wheel. "Look, when we get back to Bobby's-"

"It's okay, Dean. I'm good," Sam interrupts. Dean glances at him in concern. "No white rabbits. I'm not seeing anything."

"Okay. Baby steps." A silence settles over them as they arrive at Bobby's house. "Oh no." The smoldering remains of Bobby's house was in front of them. The boys climb out of the Impala and stare in horror. Dean takes off. "Ads! Addison!"

The boys split up, searching the rubble and property for Bobby and Addison. Sam catches up with Dean as he walks out with a burnt up book. "Any sign of 'em," Sam asks.

Dean tosses the book into the rubble and walks over to the garage with Sam on his tail. "That place was torched. Somebody knew what they were doing."

"You think Addison and Bobby were back there?"

"I don't know." Dean could feel the worry building. Sam takes off, shouting for Bobby and Addison. Dean takes out of his phone and hits the speed dial for Addison.

"This is Addison Sloan's personal number. If you leave a name and number, I may or may not get back to you," Addison's voice greets.

Dean grips his phone. This wasn't happening. He refused to believe that he had lost two more members of his family. "You and Bobby cannot be in that crater back there. I can't - If you're both gone, I swear I'm going to strap my Beautiful Mind brother into the car and I'm gonna drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing. Well, not good. Now, Bobby said he'd be here. Where are you guys?" Dean hangs up his phone and clenches his jaw.

"Bobby? Ads," Sam shouts.

"Ads? Bobby," Dean yells, looking around. He searches the junkyard, making his way towards Sam. He stops when he sees a man standing a few feet away from Sam. Dean grabs a shotgun and moves closer.

"Winchester. Congratulations. Apparently you two are competent enough to warrant annihilating. I'd take it as a compliment," the man says, walking towards Sam.

Dean aims the shotgun and shoots the man in the head. Black oozes spurts out from the man's head, but nothing else happens. The man looks at him, then opens his mouth and reveals a sharp teeth. The leviathan grabs Dean and tosses him into a windshield. Dean grunts in pain as he hits the ground hard and feels his leg snapping. Sam rushes forward and punches the leviathan as Dean scoots back. "Dean, now," Sam says when Dean close to the back of the car. Dean presses a button on a large remote and a car drops down onto the leviathan. The force of the car hitting the ground knocks Sam down.

Dean crawls over to Sam. "Sam? Sammy? Hey, come on now. I'm the one with the broken leg. You gotta carry me. Sam!?"


	3. The Girl Next Door

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Chapter 03 - The Girl Next Door

Dean wakes up to find himself in a hospital room. He looks around and finds sign declaring it to be Sioux Falls General Hospital. It was the last place he wanted to be. The last thing he remembered was begging the EMTs to take him and Sam to a different hospital. He sits up and after a moment, rips out of the IV in his arm. He moves to stand up but falls to the ground. It's then that he finally notices the cast on his right leg. The door opens and he looks to see Addison enter the room. She was wearing her FBI outfit. "Ads, you're alive," he states.

Addison raises an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm not that easy to kill. Why are you on the floor?"

"They gave me morphine. A lot." She shakes her head in amusement and walks over to him. She helps him up and back onto the bed. "Hey, look, a monster broke my leg. Oh. Wait...the house. We thought you and Bobby were dead."

Addison pulls the curtains close. "We're not. But it's not safe here and we gotta go."

"Where's Bobby?"

Addison grabs his clothes off the dresser and tosses them on the bed. "Looking for Sam. We're gonna meet him at the ambulance dock."

"Wait, where? Ads, I'm a gimp."

Addison grabs the crutches by the door and places them next to his bed. "Now, put your clothes on." She starts to move back, but he grabs her arm. She looks at him confused. Dean pulls her into a kiss. He cups the back of her head while she presses as close as she can. Reluctantly, Addison pulls away. She shoots him a reassuring smile. "Munchkin's fine too."

Dean frowns in confusion. "Munchkin?"

Addison rolls her eyes. "I'm not calling our unborn kid Dean Jr."

Finally dressed, Dean hobbles out of the room with Addison. As quickly as they can they make their way down to the ambulance dock. Addison opens the door to see Bobby sitting in the driver's seat. Dean climbs in first, then Addison. He groans as she sits on his lap. She glares at him. Bobby presses down on the gas and they speed away from the hospital.

* * *

Addison takes another bite of chocolate pudding, not taking her gaze off the television. Dean was stretched out on the couch, with his head in her lap and they both riveted by the telenovela currently playing. Three weeks had passed since their getaway from Sioux Falls. Bobby had taken them to Rufus' cabin in Montana and they had been there ever since. It was small with only a couple of bedrooms, but it did have a basement. Dean had caught Addison and Bobby up on what had happened with Sam while they had explained their quick escape from the leviathan. The door opens and closes and Dean glances over to see Bobby. "Dude, Ricardo," he says.

"What happened," Bobby asks.

"Suicidio."

"Adios," Addison comments, shifting.

"Well, this ought to cheer you up," Bobby says, tossing a set of keys onto Dean's chest.

Dean grins and sits up. "My baby. Now, I gotta get this stupid thing off and I can drive again."

"So how is it out there," Sam asks Bobby. He was sitting at the small table that was covered in empty beer bottles and cans.

"Weird with a side order of bloody," Bobby answers, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Talked to a few hunters. They're running into the same kind of thing that set up shop at that hospital."

"And don't forget tried to kill us at your place," Dean adds.

Bobby nods. "Well, consensus is they're, uh, they're like shapeshifters, only a lot more into eating folk. And nothing can kill them."

"Good times. Anything else?"

"Yep. They bleed black goo."

"Like that stuff that came out of Cas," Sam says. "Those things from Purgatory, uh-"

"Leviathan," Addison supplies.

"Yep," Bobby agrees.

"What about those chompers you and the sheriff saw at the hospital? They still making spleenburgers," Dean questions.

"Yeah. I made some calls. That doctor never showed back up to work. Ditto a nurse and some administrator."

"Could be at any hospital."

"Yeah."

"What do you think, Sammy?" Sam remains silent and they all look at him, worried. "Sam? Sam. Hey, ground control. Sam!"

Sam rubs the still healing cut on his hand. "Yeah. What? I'm - I'm right here."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

They stare at him, unconvinced. "Good," Bobby says, breaking the silence. "Every last bit of info I ever had burned down, so..."

"What about this place," Dean asks. "Rufus leave anything? You check the basement?"

"C rations and dust. I don't think he had been here in years. So I gotta go round up my old library."

"I thought you said those books were one of a kind," Sam says.

"Yeah. That's why I stashed copies all over the place."

"Okay, good. Uh...hey, uh, two legs, we're fresh out of grub. You wanna make a run," Dean asks Sam.

Sam shrugs. "Sure, yeah."

Dean tosses Sam the Impala keys. "Be careful with her, would you? And, uh, Sam."

Sam looks at him. "Yeah?"

"Pie."

"Obviously."

"And some sliced pineapple," Addison says, standing up. Sam nods and walks out of the cabin.

Dean turns to Bobby. "So?"

Bobby stares. "So what?"

"Before you bail again, _Girl, Interrupted_ over there. Any thoughts?"

Bobby shrugs. "Looks to me like he's doing better."

"Better? What do you mean better? You just saw him."

"He only checked out once. I say we call that progress," Addison argues.

"You're kidding."

Addison sighs. "Dean, it's gonna take time for Sam's head to heal. It's no different than your leg. Everyone heals in their own time."

"No diff - Ads, I get this thing off in five days, I'm golden. He's a fucking time bomb."

Dean turns to Bobby and the older hunter sighs. "It ain't like he's keeping secrets. What you see is what you get. What's so nuts about calling an upswing," Bobby tells him.

"Because that's not how it works, guys. Ever. All right? Especially not with Sam. The other shoe is gonna drop. It's just a matter of when."

"Okay. How about we worry about today's problems? And today, we need intel." Bobby stands up and makes his way towards the door. "I'm going, you sit there and stew. I'll check in." He pauses by the door and turns to the man he considered a son. "Look, you sitting here wringing your hands, ain't gonna do nothing. Maybe he'll surprise you."

Dean remains silent as Bobby walks out of the cabin. Addison places a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "One day at a time," she softly tells him, then walks away.

* * *

Dean grins and sits up when Sam enters the cabin carrying a couple bags of groceries. Sam sets a bag down on the coffee table before moving over to the table. "Thank you," Dean tells him, pulling the bag onto his lap.

"Yep." Sam looks around the cabin as Addison joins him at the table. "Where's Bobby? Did he take off?"

"Yeah." Dean looks at his younger brother. "Hey, Sam, how you doing?"

"Fine."

"I mean, you still - you know?"

"Yeah. No, I know what you mean. Yeah, I'm still seeing shit that's not real. But, yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I can tell the difference."

Dean nods, unconvinced. "Think it's getting better?"

"Honestly? Uh...I don't know." Addison comfortingly rubs Sam's arm, then moves to grab a bowl. "I know I'm managing it, so...so don't worry."

Dean turns his attention to the bag of groceries. Frowning, he pulls out a box of cake. "Where's the pie?"

"I got cake. It's close enough, right?"

Dean stares in disbelief. He turns when Addison grabs the remote and sees the bowl filled with sliced pineapple. He turns back to the cake, dismayed.

* * *

Dean wakes up the next morning to find a nature documentary on TV. He grabs the remote and turns it off. He pauses, seeing a piece of paper sitting on top of a book. He grabs it. _'Back in a few days. I'm fine. Sam.'_ He clenches the piece of paper. "Ads," he shouts, but gets no reply. "Addison!" The door opens and he turns to see Addison. She was wearing a pair shorts and a tank top. It was obvious she had just come back from a run. Dean waves the note. "Did you know about this?"

Addison grabs the note from him. She sighs and shakes her head. "I didn't know. He wasn't here when I got up, so I figured he went to get food."

Dean grabs his phone off the coffee table and hits the speed dial for Sam. There was no answer and Dean checks the GPS on Sam's phone, only to find it was turned off. He then hits the speed dial for Bobby.

"Other shoe," he snaps, not giving the older hunter a chance to speak.

"Other who," Bobby replies, over speaker phone.

"Sam. He took off."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Nowhere good."

"Well, maybe he needed a little me time."

"Yeah. But his me time ain't just him. I mean, for all we know he's road tripping with Lucifer somewhere. Left me here like Jimmy fucking Stewart."

"I assumed you called."

"Straight to voice mail. Turned his GPS off too. And he took my car."

"Don't panic," Bobby soothes.

"Too late."

"Look, he says he's okay, so give it a couple of days. Just till you get the cast off. And then hunt him down. Till then, we'll just keep calling."

"All right." Dean snaps his phone shut and tosses on the couch next to him.

Addison stands there for a moment. She knew Dean. She knew that nothing she could do would distract him from worrying about Sam. "Okay. Well, I'm gonna take a shower. Don't do anything stupid," she says, giving him a pointed look. Dean stares back at her and Addison rolls her eyes as she walks out of the living room.

* * *

Of course, Dean didn't listen. The moment he heard the shower come on, he went in search of a small hand held saw and cut off his cast. All Addison did was shake her head before they started the search for Sam. The first place they decided to check out was the small convenience store not far from the cabin. The clerk was sitting behind the counter, watching an old Looney Toons cartoon. "How you doing," Dean greets. "Uh, was there a, uh, big guy in here yesterday?"

The clerk stares at him for a second, then turns back to the TV. "That's specific."

"He's about a good foot taller than me," Addison says.

The clerk looks at her. "Yeah, maybe. Uh, brown hair."

"Yes, yes. That's him," Dean replies. "You, uh, remember what he brought?"

"Snacks, maybe."

"How bout a paper? Do you have yesterday's paper?"

The clerk motions to a blue box in front of a display of candy. "Yeah, right there."

Addison grabs a paper with the headline saying _'Ice pick killer strikes again'_. Dean comes up behind and takes the paper. He holds up the paper. "Do you mind?" The clerk shrugs and turns back to the TV as they walk out of the convenience store.

* * *

Addison frowns as she and Dean sit in the old Jeep Wrangler near the coroner's office. "It's a what now," she asks.

"Kitsune," Dean answers, flipping through John's journal. "It's pretty rare. Dad and I hunted one back in '98.

"At least we know why Sam took off."

"Yeah, but why pull the Houdini act, Ads?"

"No clue. What exactly are you gonna do when we catch up with him?"

"I got a few ideas." Addison shakes her head and looks out the window. Dean clears his throat. "Do you really think you should be..." He trails off at the waiting look on her face. "You know."

"I know what?"

"Hunting while you're pregnant."

Addison sighs. "Probably not. But I'll step back when I feel like it's too dangerous. You just gotta trust me on this."

* * *

It had been fairly easy for them to track Sam down to his motel room. But as Sam wasn't there when they arrived, Dean and Addison had broken in to wait for him. The door starts to open and Dean walks over. He pulls it open and throws a hard punch, knocking his younger brother onto the ground. "Howdy, Sam." Sam pushes himself up and Dean moves out of the way to let him in the room. "New rule. You steal my baby, you get punched. The fuck were you thinking, Sam, running off like that? I mean, for all I know, Satan could haven callin' your plays."

Sam sighs as he grabs a beer out of the mini fridge and holds it against his temple. "Dean, look, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah, no, you're a poster boy for mental health. You have any idea the kind of horror shows I had going on in my head?"

"Dean, I left you a note. There was a job in town."

"A kitsune," Addison asks. "Yeah, we know. But why exactly did you ignore our calls, Sam?"

"Because I wanted to take care of it, Ads. And I did. I took care of it."

Dean stares at his younger brother. "Really?"

"Yes. Where's the body?"

Sam remains silent for a moment. "There is no body."

"Why not?"

"Because I let her go. She's gone."

"You what?" Dean frowns. "Why?"

Dean and Addison listen as Sam tells them about a girl named Amy who he had met in high school. Amy, who happened to be a kitsune, had killed her mother to save Sam's life. "You never told me that," Dean says, a moment later.

"I never told anyone," Sam replies. "I mean, can you imagine what Dad would have done?"

"So, you saw the article in the paper and just left," Addison says.

"It was my mess."

"And you call letting her go cleaning it up," Dean questions.

"She killed her own mom, Dean. To save me."

"I hear you, Sam. I do. But look at her now. She's dropping bodies, man. Which means we gotta drop her no matter how many merit badges she racked up when she was a kid. I'm sorry, but it's that simple."

Sam shakes his head. "Nothing in our lives is simple."

"Look, man, I get it, okay. You meet a girl, you feel that spark. There's nothing better. But this freak?" Sam stands up and grabs his jacket. "I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, you did. Look, I see the way you look at me, Dean. Like I'm a grenade and you're waiting for me to go off."

"Sam-"

"I'm going off. Look, I might be a freak, but that's not the same as dangerous."

"I didn't say-"

"It's okay. Say it. I've spent a lot of my life trying to be normal, but come on, I'm not normal. Look at the shit I've done. Look at me now. I'm a grade-A freak. But I'm managing it. And so is Amy."

"Is she? How?"

"She works at a damn funeral home so she doesn't have to kill anyone, Dean. She's figured out how to deal."

"Okay, well, explain the bodies."

"She's done. Her fucking kid was dying, Dean. Put any of us in her position, we'd probably do the same thing. Look, you don't trust her, fine. Trust me." Dean remains quiet. "Dean, please."

"Okay."

Sam stares in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Gotta start sometime, right?"

* * *

Addison looks up when the door of their newest motel room opens. Dean had dropped her and Sam off while he went to refill his prescription. He looks around the room, then turns to her. "Bathroom," she says, answering his silent question. Dean nods and shrugs off his jacket.

Dean rubs his face as he sits down on the bed and turns on the TV. Sam walks out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair as a silence settles over the hunters.


	4. Defending Your Life

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Chapter 04 - Defending Your Life

Addison frowns as she climbs out of the Impala after they arrive at the crime scene. Reporters and police officers surrounded the area outside the apartment building. She tugs on her blazer, trying to pull it down so it covered more of her growing bump. "Feels wonky," Dean states.

Sam frowns in confusion. "What?"

"Working a regular job."

Addison rolls her eyes. "Bobby will call if anything pops up on the Leviathan front. Besides, you know you want to work this case, Dean. The cop on the wire sounded utterly confused."

Dean nods in agreement. "No arguments. It's kind of nice, you know. We're due for a little cut-and-dry." They flash their badges at the officer and then walk under the police tape. "And, uh, you seem good, Sam."

"I am. For me," Sam replies. He stops and turns to Dean. "By the way, thank you."

"For?"

"Amy. I know you didn't wanna let her go, but it was the right thing to do. Thanks."

"No problem."

They make their way up to the tenth floor in the apartment building. A detective was standing next to a small pile of rubble on the floor outside the victim's apartment. "Welcome to Crazytown. Population, one dead guy," the detective greets.

"Who was he," Sam questions.

The detective flips through his notebook. "Matthew Hammond. Seems to have been crushed to death."

"By," Dean asks.

"If we weren't on the tenth floor, I'd say by a car."

The trio exchanges a look before making their way into the apartment. Blood was splattered along the wall where the hole was. Sam discreetly pulls out the EMF meter and turns it on. "It's going crazy. Some kind of ghost?"

"With a license," Dean disbelievingly replies. He grins. "License to kill."

Sam stares at Dean. "Seriously?"

Addison shakes her head as she moves past him. She stops when she notices something on the floor. Sam walks over and kneels down. "What have you got," Dean asks, walking around the apartment.

"I don't know. Looks like some kind of powder," Sam replies, touching the powder.

"Sulfur."

"No. Just dirt."

"Think we might have a _Christine_ type of thing here," Addison asks as Sam moves over to a desk.

Dean shrugs as he looks through a bowl on a kitchen counter. "Even possessed cars can't do stairs. It's something spectral." He picks up a token. "Check this out. AA, ten years. Dead and sober. Double shitty."

Dean tosses the token to Addison. Sam holds up some paper. "There's a, uh, charge that keeps coming up. Fifty bucks a month at a place called Jane's. All right." Sam smirks at Dean. "Congrats on your sobriety. I'll go find out what Jane's is."

Dean chuckles. "I, uh, I gave up AA for lent."

"We're not Catholic."

"I, uh, I converted. For Ads and our kid. Yep, I'm Catholic now."

Addison rolls her eyes. "I'll go to the meeting, you guys can go talk to Jane."

"Whoa, whoa. You're not going by yourself."

"Fine. Sam and I will go to the meeting and you can go talk to Jane. Problem?"

"It's hot when you get all bossy, Ads."

* * *

Their search had led them to a cemetery that night. Sam and Addison didn't have much luck in finding anything out about the victim, except that he was really private. Dean, on the other hand, had found that the victim had flowers delivered monthly to the same place. "Here we go," Dean says, finding the headstone. "Meet Elizabeth Duren."

"She was only ten," Addison softly says. "Who was she?"

"I don't know. Well, we'll chew on it back at the motel."

After making their way back to the motel, the trio hunkers down into research mode. "Elizabeth Duren," Sam says. "Killed ten years ago when a neighbor back out of his driveway. Didn't see her bike. No one was ever charged. Police ruled it a accident."

"Let me guess. The neighbor is our tenth floor pancake," Dean replies.

Sam nods. "At least we know he felt bad. I mean, the flowers."

"Kind of makes you wonder if the guy wasn't drunk when he ran her over."

Addison and Sam stare at Dean for a moment while he takes a swig of beer. "Yeah. All right, well, regardless. Now that we got a decent bead on Ghost Rider, let's go."

Dean looks at Sam. "What?"

"Burn her bones. Put her to rest," Sam reminds, grabbing his jacket. Addison stands up and pulls on a hoodie.

Dean sighs. "The fun never stops."

* * *

"Ugh, another night at the office," Dean says as they enter the motel room after burning Elizabeth Duren's bones. He turns to Sam. "Why don't you take the first shower?"

"Hey, listen to this," Addison says. She was holding a newspaper that they had picked up when she insisted on stopping to get something to eat. "'A local man, Christopher Fisher, was ripped to shreds in a wild animal attack last night.'"

Dean groans as he sits down on the bed. "It is a dangerous world out there, Ads."

"He was in the bathroom of a diner."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound right."

"Apparently no one in the diner saw anything," Addison continues, sitting down at the table with Sam as he grabs his laptop. "He calls 911, screaming about a dog, but the operator didn't hear anything either."

"Wow. Looks like this guy had a history with dogs," Sam says.

"Meaning," Dean asks.

"Five years ago, he was arrested for running a dogfighting operation."

"Classy. All right, so what? He causes so much misery that some Rottweiler goes Cujo on him from beyond the grave?" Dean frowns. "Wait a second. Do dogs even have ghosts?"

"First I've heard of it."

"Sounds weird. A ghost dog?"

"Not any weirder than a ghost car," Addison comments.

"You know what does make sense? Vengeance on the guy that Michael Vicked you. I mean, I'm no one to judge, but sounds to me like that guy had it coming."

Sam turns back to his laptop. "Maybe. But maybe not. So, he got busted, got probation, started volunteering at an animal shelter."

"Yeah, because he had to."

"At first, yeah. But he kept going long after he served his time. Looks like he got really into it. Raised a lot of money for the cause."

Sam turns his laptop to show them an article about the victim holding a fundraiser for a local animal shelter. "People change."

"Tell that to ghost dog."

Sam shuts his laptop and stands. "All right. Get suited up. Let's go check out the body."

"What?"

Sam frowns. "What?"

"What? What?"

"Nothing. I - You okay?"

"Peachy. Yeah. Let's do this." Addison exchanges a confused look with Sam as Dean gathers his suit.

* * *

"An apple farm," Dean disbelievingly asks as the Impala speeds down a rural road. Sam had discovered red dirt on the second victim's shoes and after doing some research had found where the dirt had come from.

"Yeah. Apparently whatever's in red dirt makes great apples," Sam explains.

"Wow. I'd be so interested in that if I ate apples."

"Yeah, since the only apples you eat come in a pie," Addison comments.

Sam chuckles. "So this one's supposed to be pretty old, uh, mostly abandoned. Few hundred acres."

"A few hundred! We're gonna be searching all year," Dean complains. A man runs out onto the road and Dean slams on the breaks, causing the Impala to stop a couple of feet from the man.

The trio climbs out. "Are you okay," Addison asks, moving to stand next to Dean.

"Guy just jumped in front of a car, Ads," Dean mutters.

"Do you need any help, sir?"

The man continues to pant. "Why don't we get you out of here before you get roadkilled, huh," Dean asks.

"Yeah," the man replies. Addison leads him over to the backdoor and they climb into the Impala.

* * *

The trio and Warren, the man they had narrowly missed hitting, are sitting around the motel room. Sam hands Warren a glass of water. "Warren, uh, just take a minute and tell us what's going on."

"Look, you're good people, I can see that," Warren begins as Dean sits down on the couch next to Addison. "But you can't do anything for me. No one can."

"Why not," Dean asks.

"Because it's all impossible. You won't even believe me."

"Well, try us."

Warren pauses. "I was just put on trail and sentenced to death."

Addison frowns. "What did you do?"

"Held up a liquor store. I killed the owner and his wife. I wasn't thinking. I was young."

"Young," Dean disbelievingly repeats, considering the fact that Warren was at least in his fifties. "When was this?"

"1981."

"And they just put you on trail?"

"No, no. I just got out of prison."

"Okay, you're making less sense the more you talk."

Sam stands up, blocking Dean. "It's okay. Just go on," he tells Warren.

"Did thirty years. I just got paroled. Not that you're ever free of that. I think about it every day."

"So, then what were you running from?"

"I told you. The trail. All I know is one minute I'm at the bar and the next, I get jumped. Wake up in a damn courtroom."

Addison raises an eyebrow. "Courtroom? Like an actual courtroom?"

"Well, no. There was a judge. Everything was crazy. It was in a barn."

"At the apple farm," Sam asks.

"Yeah."

The trio exchanges a look. "And this bar where you were grabbed," Sam questions.

"Neal's Tavern."

Sam turns to Dean and Addison. "Same place where Matthew Hammond went before his, uh, car accident. Think maybe dog guy went there too?" Dean shrugs and Sam turns back to Warren. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

Warren looks between the three of them. "You believe me? Who the hell are you?"

"We, uh, we specialize in...crazy," Addison tells him. "Um, did this judge give you a name?"

Warren shakes his head. "No. But there were these weird symbols."

"Symbols," Sam asks. "Do you remember any of them? Can you draw them?" Addison grabs a notepad and a pencil and hands them to Warren.

"Excuse us a sec. Can I talk to you two," Dean says. Addison shoots Warren a small smile while the trio make their way out of the room.

"What is it," Sam asks.

"What is it," Dean repeats. "Sam, um, huh. How about a drunk driver, Michael Vick, a murderer?"

"And?"

"And? When did our black-and-white case turn to mud? I'm just saying, I'm having a hard time not rooting for the ghosts on this one."

Addison sighs. "Dean, you're the one who said that it's for us to judge."

"Yeah. Except that that's complete shit, Ads. Everybody judges all day long. Look, I'm just supposed to ignore what that guy did?"

"We've shot people, Dean," Sam argues. "More than two."

"Yeah. And you know, when those ghosts come to kick my ass, they've got a compelling case."

"So, are you saying that you don't want work the job anymore," Addison questions.

"I'm just saying, one simple fucking day on the job is that too much to ask?"

Sam sighs. "Well, look I'm gonna go out, I'm gonna try and find that barn. You coming?"

"I'm gonna check the bar."

"To drink or work," Addison asks.

"I haven't decided," Dean answers, before walking off. Addison shakes her head and turns to Sam.

They make their way back into the room and Warren anxiously turns to them. "What's going on? Where did he go," Warren asks, noticing Dean's absence.

"He, uh..." Sam trails off, exchanging a look with Addison. "Everything's fine. Look, um, let's go back to that farm."

"Oh, no, no, I'm not going back."

"Warren, we need your help finding that barn," Addison tells him.

"It's red, stands out. I'm not going back. They're out there."

"Who," Sam inquires.

"The people I killed. I just - no. No."

"Look, you're safer with us than not."

"No."

"Okay. Fine." Sam takes the notepad from Warren. He grabs a container of salt from a bag and starts making a salt circle around an arm chair. "I need you stay inside the circle until we get back. Okay? It will protect you."

"How," Warren asks, taking a seat in the armchair.

"Just trust me, okay? I'm trying to help."

Addison turns on the TV and tosses Warren the remote. "Just...stay there." Sam and Addison nod at Warren and make their way out of the room as Sam calls Bobby.

* * *

The Impala pulls up in front of a barn that evening. Addison and Sam climb out and look around. The area was empty save the barn and a couple of old tractors. Sam takes the lead as they enter the barn. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the barn. Sam kneels down and lightly touches the dirt. He holds his hand and Addison frowns. Sam's phone rings and he takes it out, putting it on speaker. "Hey, Bobby, what have you got?"

"Those chicken scratches? Definitely Egyptian. Book of the Dead," Bobby answers.

"Is that good news," Addison asks.

"They identify the god Osiris. Real authoritarian type. He gets ahold of you, he's judge, jury, and executioner. Lore says that he can see directly into the human heart. He weights the guilt. If he finds more than a feather's worth, boom, you're done."

"So, what's he doing in Dearborn," Sam questions.

"Well, it seems like he pops up and does his circuit judge act and then disappears again. That's all I got so far. Do you know what this means?"

"Yeah. We gotta find him before he goes underground again."

"No, ya idjit. It means you three gotta get the hell out of Dodge. This guy hones in on people that feel guilty. Who does that sound like to you?"

Addison takes out her iPhone and hits speed dial for Dean. It's after the third try that she grows worried. "Damnit, Dean, pick up the phone. It's important. Call me or Sam. Now." She shoves her phone in her pocket and turns to Sam. "Any luck?"

"No," Sam answers as Addison's phone rings.

"It's about fucking time, Dean," Addison answers.

"Hello?"

Addison frowns in confusion when a woman replies. "Who is this?"

"Ads," Sam asks.

"Oh, I just - I picked this off the ground where I've been standing for ten minutes listening to it ring," the woman explains.

"Well, um, can you tell me where you are? It's just really important that I get my boyfriend's phone back as it's got some, um, intimate photos."

* * *

After picking up Dean's phone and finding a pile of red dirt near where the phone was dropped, Sam and Addison make their way back to the barn. But now the barn was different. Egyptian statues were around the room along with torches. A gold throne sat upon a platform at the back of the room and across from the platform was Dean. He was chained to a chair and sitting behind a table. "Really, Warren? All you noticed were the symbols," Dean asks, looking around the room. He struggles against the trains.

"Quit squirming, Mr. Winchester." Dean looks up to see a man sitting on the throne and holding a staff. "They're Houdini-proof. Now, you wanna talk charges or-"

"I'd rather talk about your Bukowski schtick at the bar. What, you can't jump a guy when he's sober?"

"You and that waitress had quite a talk, huh. Get a couple of drinks in you and the guilt comes pouring out."

"Eavesdropping. That's cute."

"Speaking of. You two gonna skulk all night, Sam and Addison?" Sam pushes open the door and he and Addison walk in. "Nice job finding us. I assumed you figured out who I am too?"

"Yeah," Sam answers.

"You guys wanna fill me in," Dean asks.

"The Egyptian god, Osiris," Addison answers.

"Ta da," Osiris replies. "Now, go about your business."

"Look, if anyone should be on trail, it's me," Sam says, stepping forward.

"That's for me to decide. Now, go away."

"But he - he has the right to an attorney, doesn't he? Let me-" Addison clears her throat. "Let us defend him."

"That's unusual."

"You gonna respect his rights or not?"

Osiris looks between the three hunters. "Why not?"

Sam sits down in the empty chair next to Dean while Addison sits down in the chair appears behind the boys. "Neither of you are a lawyer," Dean hisses.

"I was pre law," Sam replies.

"Yeah, pre."

"All right, then, let's get started," Osiris says. He bangs his staff on the platform. "Now, the list of witness I can call endless."

"Objection," Sam says.

"Are you gonna let me finish my sentence?"

"No. This isn't fair."

Osiris scoffs. "Fair? I'm sorry. Moving on. I can make it very simple. Four witnesses."

"Objection!"

"Grounds?"

"Witness being called without prior notice."

"Good one," Dean mutters.

"I saw that on _The Good Wife_."

"Yes. Very find objection. Denied," Osiris says.

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm the judge, son. Now stop objecting or I'll find you in contempt. That is kill you. So I advise you to let me move it along. Prosecution calls Joanna Beth Harvelle to the stand."

Jo appears behind a chair next to Osiris. She looked exactly like the last time they had saw her. "Jo," Dean disbelievingly greets.

"Dean. Sam. Addison. Long time," Jo replies. Osiris motions for her to sit and she does.

"State your name for the court," Osiris orders.

"Jo Harvelle."

"And what is your relationship to Dean Winchester?"

"We worked together."

"Isn't it true that you admired him?"

"Well, as a hunter, yeah. As a guy, he was kind of a jerk."

"So you saw him as a mentor of sorts?"

"I wouldn't put it like that."

"How would you put it?"

"I don't know. I trusted him. So if you're trying to say he was a bad guy or something-"

"Was it hard?"

"What?"

"Working with him. Considering your feelings."

"No. What feelings?"

"You would've done quite a bit for him, followed him into any battle."

"I know what you're getting at and it's bull."

"So Dean had nothing to do with your first case. The one that started it all."

"It wasn't like that."

"No feelings. None at all. You would've chosen the exact same road...ended up in that hardware store...holding a fuse."

"You're a piece of work, you know that," Dean angrily snaps. "Putting words in her mouth-"

Osiris waves a hand and Dean silently gasps for air. "Keep him under control, counsel. Or I'll removed his tongue. Your witness."

Sam stands up and walks over to stand in front of Jo. "Jo," he greets. "So, um...your dad was in the life?"

"Yes, he was," Jo answers.

"And your relationship with him?"

"Good. I mean-"

"You idolized him."

"Basically."

"So, why did you start? To impress some loudmouth ass you just met? Or because you wanted to be like your dad?"

"Daddy issues. Definitely. Listen, Dean, I don't-"

Osiris waves a hand and Jo vanishes. The Egyptian God turns to the hunters. "Prosecution calls Addison Bridget Sloan to the stand."

Dean closes his eyes as Addison makes her way up to the stand. "This is a good thing," Sam quietly says and Dean just glares at him.

"Addison, how would you describe your relationship with Dean?"

Addison looks between Dean and Osiris. "Ah, well, I - I would say that we're, uh, dating."

"This isn't the first time you've dated, though."

"It's the first time we've been in an actual relationship. I mean before we were always friends or friends with benefits."

"How many times would you say that Dean has broken your heart?"

Addison shifts. "Well, um, I - I don't..." She trails off at the hard look on Osiris' face. "Four."

"Dean's also the reason you haven't had a long lasting relationship."

"Dean has nothing to my failed 's all on me."

Osiris smirks. "Your high school boyfriend Blake?"

"I broke up with him because he went around telling everyone that I was a slut."

"Which he only did after catching you and Dean behind that dumpster. How about Wesley?"

"Dean had nothing to do with that. Wes ended things after he found out the truth-"

"From reading your hunters' journal. The same journal that you left out after Dean called and asked if you would do some research for him. I mean, if Dean hadn't called you could've been married with a couple of kids and living on the Upper East Side by now." Addison remains silent. "How about we talk about-"

"Yes, me fucking Dean was a reason my relationship with Sam ended. And yeah, maybe he played a part in why my other relationships ended, but none of that matters. Because I know that Dean would do anything to protect the people he cares about. And that - I consider that more important than anything else."

"You can take your seat," Osiris says and Addison quickly makes her way back over to the boys. "All right. You three can have a moment to strategize." The god knowingly looks at Dean. "And then I'll call my next witness."

"You okay," Sam quietly asks as Addison sits down. She nods. "All right. Who's the next witness? He looked at you like you'd know."

"I got no clue," Dean confesses. "This whole thing's like a fucking episode of _Pee Wee's Playhouse_."

"Next witness," Osiris announces, tapping his staff on the platform. "Prosecution calls...Sam Winchester to the stand." Sam exchanges a look with Dean and Addison as he makes his way up to the stand. "Sam...not exactly the life you expected, is it?"

"Details a little different," Sam replies.

"For a while there, you were gonna be a real lawyer. Marry Jess."

"Yeah, that was a long time ago."

"But were or were you not happily out of the family racket until Dean showed back up in that gas guzzler? The truth, now."

Sam pauses. "It's complicated."

"That one act had quite a domino effect. Come back, your girl's dead."

"Well, that wasn't his fault."

"Sure, and neither is everything that came after - all the death and the blood and hanging on by a thread. None of that is on Dean, directly. But don't you think that your brother dragged you back into that catastrophic mess because he'd rather damn you with him than be alone?"

"No. One way or another, I'd have gotten pulled back in."

"You know that for certain?"

"Pretty sure."

"Pretty sure."

"I'm positive."

"I believe you. Hey, if it was about convincing me, I would say..."

"What?"

"I don't decided anything, Sam. I don't decided Dean's guilt. I just weigh the guilt that's already there. This is solely about how Dean feels, way down deep. Them's the breaks."

"Wait. If Dean believes he's innocent, then he is," Addison asks, standing up.

"If. A big if. Why do I bring up the past? To see if he feels like dog shit about it. People want to be judged. They really do. When your heart's heavy, let me tell you, real punishment's a mercy."

"I want to call Dean to the stand," Sam says.

"Oh, you do, now? There is an order to this stuff, you know." Osiris nods. "Okay. I'll allow it."

Osiris snaps his fingers and the chains around Dean fall to the ground. Dean makes his way up to the stand and switches places with Sam. "So, Dean. When you and Ads came and got me, did you know Jess would die," Sam asks. "Or any of it?"

"Course not," Dean answers.

"Right. How could you? I mean, are you psychic?" Dean stares at his younger brother. "That's a question."

"No. Uh, definitely not psychic."

"Great. So why would you feel guilty about not predicting the future?"

"Yeah, I guess that doesn't make any sense. Actually, yeah, no, I don't."

"What about Jo? Did you actually kill her?"

"Uh, no."

"Isn't it true that you don't feel guilty about her - that you're just...sad she's dead? That it just...blows?"

"Actually...maybe, yeah."

"And isn't true that when Addison cheated on her ex-boyfriends, she's the one who made the first move?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Not only that, but she hurt you when she left. I mean, you spent a year thinking that she was dead, right?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm mmm. I like your style, Sam. Very engaging," Osiris comments.

"Dean. Does any of this feel like it's really...on you," Sam asks his brother.

Dean shakes his head. "Not really."

"Then is your heart heavy with guilt or just plain heavy and none of this guy's business?"

"Uh, what you said - the second thing."

"Then I rest my case."

Osiris nods. "Very good...all of you. All right. Because I really enjoyed that, I'm gonna be generous and ask - Dean, do you want me to call my last witness? Or have we had enough?"

Dean sighs and Sam frowns. He looks at Addison and she shrugs. "What the hell's he talking about," Sam asks his older brother.

"Enough Ally McBealing. Just drop the hammer, will ya," Dean says.

"Dean, he's giving us more time," Addison snaps.

"It's not gonna make a difference, Ads!"

"You need another moment," Osiris amusedly asks. "You done?" Dean nods and Osiris bangs his staff three times. "The court's reached a verdict. I find you, Dean Winchester, guilty in your heart...and sentence you to die. I'd suggest you get your affairs in order quickly."

* * *

Addison shakes her head as she climbs out of the Impala with the boys. Police and a coroner's van sat outside their motel and they watch as a body bag on a stretcher is wheeled out. They had made their back to the motel after Osiris' verdict. They make their way up to the room and find the broken salt line around the chair. "Damn it, I told him," Sam says.

"Osiris would've got to him one way or another," Dean reminds. "Guy's batting a thousand."

"There's still time. We'll figure something out," Addison says.

The trio spend much of the day researching Osiris. That night they're sitting around the motel room, trying to ignore the fact that Dean may only have a few hours, when Sam's phone rings. "Bobby? What have you got," Sam answers. "Good. We need it...So it's temporary?...A ram's horn? Where am I gonna find a ram's horn in Dearborn?...Yeah, thanks."

"Got something," Addison says from where she was sitting at the table with her laptop. "Okay, so, apparently Jewish people blow through them once a year."

"Where are you guys gonna find one this time of night," Dean asks, glancing at his watch.

"Uh, a synagogue."

"You're gonna steal from a temple? That's a new low."

Sam shoots Dean an unamused look. "You're on death row, Dean. Quit joking around." He moves over to his brother and holds out a hand. "Here. Keys. I'll be back."

"The dick is gonna sic Jo after me, Sam."

"You're a hunter, Dean. You know how to deal with ghosts."

Dean reluctantly hands the keys to Sam. "So, you're suggesting I kill her again?"

Addison sighs. "Dean, you didn't kill her."

Sam nods in agreement. "I'll hurry." He nods at Addison and runs out of the room.

Dean grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours another glass. Addison closes her laptop and walks over to him. "Don't," he says, taking a swig of whiskey. She slides her arms around his neck and stands on her tip toes before pressing her lips against his. Their kiss is tender and slow, filled with nothing but raw and unadulterated love. Dean breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. "I don't want you to be here."

"You're shit out of luck because I'm not going anywhere," Addison replies. "I love you, Dean. I always have. And I always will. That's never ever gonna change."

"You're a pain the ass, Ads."

"Right back at cha, Winchester." She presses a kiss to his cheek, then moves back. "All right. Let me go pee first, then we'll get to ghost proofing the room."

After the bathroom door closes, Dean grabs a chair and places it under the handle, effectively locking Addison in. He pours a circle of salt in the center of the room. "You can come out now."

"You I'd never do this," Jo says, walking slowly around the circle.

The door knob rattles. "Dean," Addison shouts. "Dean, open the door."

"I'm not gonna let you watch this," Dean tells her. He looks at Jo as she stops in front of him. "I know."

"I guess it's his thing. Some kind of twisted eye for an eye," Jo explains.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. You deserve better."

"No, you did. You deserved better, Jo. Just like Ads deserves better."

"Dean, please open the door," Addison begs.

Jo glances at the closed door. "Dean, my life was good. Really."

"He was right, you know," Dean says. "That dick judge. About me."

"Osiris was full of shit, Dean," Addison argues.

Jo nods. "She's right."

"You were a kid," Dean tells Jo.

"Not true."

"You and Sam. No, I just - You know, hunters are never kids. I never was. I didn't even stop to think about it."

"It's not your fault. It wasn't on you."

"No. But I didn't wanna do it alone. Who does? Right then would've been to send your ass back home to your mom."

"I'd like to have seen you try. He was right about one thing."

"What? Your massive crush on me?"

"Shut up. You carry all kinds of crap you don't have to, Dean. It kinda gets clearer when you're dead."

"Well, in that case, you should be able to see that I am ninety percent...crap. I get rid of that, what then?"

"You really wanna die not knowing?" Silence settles between them. "Dean."

"Yeah."

"It's time." Jo vanishes and reappears beside stove. Dean watches as she turns on the gas stove. Jo appears in front of Dean and looks down at the salt in. "Come on, Dean. I used to hunt ghosts, I know the tricks." A window freezes and breaks as the room grows cold. A breeze breaks the salt line and Dean goes to fix it only to find Jo right in front of him. "He's making me do this."

"It's okay." Jo reaches into Dean's jacket and pulls out his lighter. She flips it open and looks up at Dean. Then something changes. Jo drops the lighter and lightly stokes Dean's cheek before vanishing.

Dean turns off the stove and moves the chair away from the bathroom door. He stands there for a moment, then slowly enters the bathroom. Addison was sitting on the floor, with her back against the tub. Tears were streaming down her face. And she looks up at him, he feels nothing but guilt for the pain he just caused her. Addison pushes herself up and stares at Dean. He's expecting her to slap him. Hell, he more than deserves it. But she moves around him and walks out of the bathroom.

* * *

Addison sighs as she pulls on an old t-shirt. They were in another motel in another town. She walks out of the bathroom and jumps seeing Dean sitting on the bed. Ever since leaving Dearborn a few days earlier, she had been Dean the silent treatment. He motions to the takeout container sitting on the table. "I got the stuff you wanted," he says and she stares at him. "All right, well, I'm next door with Sam if you need anything."

Dean starts towards the door. "I need to know if you're in this for the long haul," Addison says, causing him to stop.

"Are you talking about us? Because you know I am, Ads. Yeah, I was gonna let Jo kill me. And yeah, I deserve the crap you're giving me now. But that shouldn't change-"

"It changes everything, Dean. It's not about just us anymore. It's about you, me, and our kid. And I - I need to know that you're gonna be for us for however long that is."

Dean nods. "Let's get married."

Addison blinks. "What?"

"You heard me. Let's get married."


	5. Shut Up, Dr Phil

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.  
AN: Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, or alerts.

Chapter 05 - Shut Up, Dr. Phil

"I hate you," Addison pants as she and Sam walk back to the motel room after a morning run. They had left a couple hours earlier while Dean was sleeping.

Sam laughs. "You were the one who said you wanted to stay in shape, Ads."

"Yeah, but, I changed my mind. I'm fine with just pigging out and working off the baby weight next year." She places a hand on her belly. A simple gold band was on her right ring finger. Her and Dean had gotten married a couple of weeks earlier. There had been no ceremony as they had just gone to a courthouse near Whitefish and gotten a marriage license. "Besides, I don't think Munchkin likes it much."

"C'mon," he says, then takes off in a jog. Addison stands there for a second before running after him.

"Somebody better be chasing you two," Dean greets as they enter the motel room. He was sitting at the table with Addison's laptop and drinking whiskey.

"It's good for you," Sam argues, taking a couple of sports drinks out of the fridge.

"No, no. It's not good for you. Look at you guys, you're messes and you stink."

"Hey, don't make me hug you," Addison says, sitting down across from Dean.

"Well, while you two were being Lance Armstrong-"

"That would be biking," Sam corrects.

"I was working," Dean continues. "You ever heard of a town called Prosperity, Indiana?"

"Has anybody?"

"Two of their fine citizens died over the past two weeks. Uh, this one chick, she, uh, roasted underneath one of those beehive hair dryers at a hair salon. And this other guy boiled in a hot tub."

"You don't see a lot of that."

"No, you don't."

"It's worth checking out," Addison comments.

"Yeah," Dean agrees, pour more whiskey in a glass.

"You know, one more thing. What's going on with you," Sam asks.

Dean humorlessly chuckles. "We have had this conversation, Sam."

"No, we haven't. See, to do that, you'd have to, uh, sort of speak."

"Okay. See if you can get this straight. See, ahem, you're new Sam, right? Lance Armstrong."

"Biking."

"Ads is one and a half people, and, uh, I'm still me. Okay? All right? So you might see things different now. Uh, call it a runner's high or some shit. But that doesn't mean that something is going on with me, okay."

Sam nods, unconvinced. "Yeah. Okay."

"No. Don't say yeah, okay like 'yeah, okay.'"

"Yeah, okay," Sam repeats, moving into the bathroom.

Dean turns his attention back to the laptop. He glances up and meets Addison's gaze. "Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Addison replies, pushing herself up. She grabs the glass out of his hand and places it on the table before placing his her on her belly. His gaze is glued to her belly as he feel the baby kick.

* * *

"I'm very sorry. I know this is a tough time to have to talk about all this," Sam tells Wendy Goodwin's sister as he and Addison talk to her outside. They had chosen to interview the sister while Dean went to the hair salon.

"I've already been though it so many times with the lawyers, the police, the insurance guys," the sister replies.

"Right. We know. We know. It's just, um, we have to conduct our own separate investigation," Addison says. "I'm sorry. We know it's tough. Uh, did your sister have any enemies?"

The sister frowns. "Why do you ask that? You think her death wasn't accidental?"

"No. No, no, no," Sam quickly says. "We just have to consider every possibility. Is there anyone who might have wanted to harm her?"

"You don't live here, so you don't know. Everyone...loved Wendy. She volunteered at the church. She ran a group for kids. I was the big sister and I looked up to her."

"Did she know Carl Dunlap," Addison questions.

The sister shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Well, Wendy was in real estate, right? Carl was an architect. Maybe they had some business dealings," Sam says.

"If they had worked together, I would've heard the name. Agents, if someone did this to my sister, find out who."

Sam nods. "We'll let you know if we find anything." He and Addison head down the street. "So, Dean's-"

"Oh, there's definitely something up," Addison interrupts. "But there's no way he'll admit it unless we shove some veritaserum down his throat."

Sam's phone rings and he pulls it out. He flashes the screen to reveal Dean's name, then answers. "Hey, so the sister didn't know squat."

"Same with the salon workers. But I did find a coin," Dean says over the speaker.

"What kind of coin," Addison asks.

"It's not American. I don't know where it's from. It was wedged back behind one of those machines. Somebody could have dropped it. Of course, they don't have pockets in those robe thingies that they make you wear."

Sam laughs. "I didn't realize you were such a spa expert."

"Shut up. I observe with my eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever you say. So, you thinking it must be some kind of hex talisman?"

"Uh, maybe."

"All right. Pick us up."

"What don't you just run home, Lance?"

"Because I'm pregnant and my feet hurt," Addison snaps. "And get some chips on the way. Salt and vinegar."

Dean sighs. "All right, I'll be there in a bit."

* * *

Addison wrinkles her nose as she and the boys walk near the nearest crime scene. A man had died in a bizarre accident at a construction site and it had caught their attention. They flash their badges before Sam makes his way towards a trailer. "So, what do we know about the vic," Dean asks a police officer.

"Dewey Stevens - owner, Dewey Stevens Construction, biggest outfit in town. Rotarian, methodist, tenor, blue ribbon pecan pie champ, asthmatic," the officer tells them. Dean and Addison stare at the officer. "We're a close knit community."

"So, this, um, pillar of the community - he was taking a leak before he, uh, sprung a few?"

"The crew had gone for the day. Site was shut down."

Dean nods as he checks out the port-a-potty. He lifts up a sheet and finds the body. Nails were sticking out from various places, including the eyes. "Anything unusual besides the nails in the eyes?"

The officer motions to the truck. "Well, we're still trying to figure out where they plugged in the nail gun, seeing as there's no generator on the truck."

"Well, when you figure that out, let us know." Dean looks around the port-a-potty once more and finds another coin hidden in a corner. He grabs it before he and Addison make their way to the trailer. He frowns at the look on her face. "Don't tell me you're gonna puke."

Addison shakes her head. "I'm good," she forces out as they enter the trailer. She sits down on the other side of the desk that Sam was sitting behind.

"So another victim everybody likes," Dean tells him.

"Not everybody," Sam counters.

"Another physically impossible death. You got any ideas?"

"Cirque dul Soleil?"

"Oh, I, uh, found another one of these, just like at the, uh, the hair-dryer/brain roast."

Dean hands Sam the coin. He examines the coin before passing it to Addison. "And I found a connection with all the vics. Um, these e-mail logs show Wendy, the real estate chick, uh, Carl, the architect, and this Dewey guy were all working on a shopping center project together."

"How come we're just finding out about this," Addison asks.

"Well, it all fell apart for some reason. I mean, there are these e-mails back and forth, pretty hot and heavy, and suddenly they just stopped."

"So, everybody working on this project has died," Dean questions.

"Well, not yet. Um, they were working with a developer, a guy named Don Stark."

Dean frowns. "Don Stark? Why do I know that name?"

* * *

The trio are standing in front of a bust of Don Stark outside of a local museum. "Man, this Stark guy is really plugged in, huh," Sam comments.

"So all the players in this - this shopping center project have either fried, boiled, or kebabbed. He could be next," Dean says, pulling out a flask.

Addison raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? A flask? Dude, we're working."

"We're always working, Addison."

Sam's phone beeps and he takes it out. "All right, Bobby e-mailed back. I sent him a few pics of those coins you found. He says the writing is Romanian Cyrillic used only in the mid-15th to the 19th century. Apparently, an antique Walachian ducat."

"So we're looking for an old Romanian?"

"You know what? Is it just me or is this really weird," Sam asks, motioning to the dead flowers around the bust.

"Huh. I've seen this once before. The - the plants are all dead in one spot."

"Where?"

"A bus bench with Wendy Goodson's picture on it. I mean, I'm no expert, but I don't think plants are supposed to act like this."

* * *

"If the Bureau is involved, I assume you think all three were murdered," Don Stark says, leading the trio into his study.

"It's looking that way, yes," Dean replies.

"Now, Mr. Stark, you had a relationship with all three victims, correct," Sam asks.

"Oh, I knew them in business circles, sure," Don answers.

"And you were all involved in the shopping center project. Why exactly did that fall apart," Addison questions.

"Uh, these things happen." A young blonde woman appears in the doorway with a garment bag. "Oh, Jenny. These folks are from the FBI. Jenny Klein, my assistant."

"Hi there," Jenny brightly greets, then turns back to Don. "Okay, Don, I'm off to the cleaners, then I'm gonna stop at Beaman, Beaman, and Beaman for the revised contracts."

"Hurry on back. You know how things fall apart without you."

Jenny giggles. "Oh, I baked you some cupcakes. Coconut."

"Coconut. You're too good to me, Jenny."

"I'll see you soon," Jenny says, then walks off.

"Yeah." Don notices the looks on the hunters faces. "She bakes cupcakes."

"Yummy," Dean deadpans.

"Could you point me to the bathroom," Addison asks, rubbing her belly. "This one here is just making me have to pee every ten minutes."

"Yeah. Around the corner, down the hall," Don says.

Addison smiles. "Thank you." She makes her way down the hallway, then makes her way upstairs. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the upstairs area of the two story McMansion, but that didn't stop her from searching. "Interesting," she mutters, entering the walk in closet for the master bedroom. Half of the closet was filled with Don's clothes while the other half was empty. A broken heel sat on a shelf and a couple of spaces above it was a shoe box. As she stands on her tiptoes and reaches for the shoe box, she feels the baby kicking. "Munchkin, you gotta stop, okay. Mommy's working." Addison grabs an envelope sitting underneath the box and slowly pulls it off the shelf. The shoe box was filled with ingredients and the envelope contained papers with instructions for a spell. After taking pictures of everything, Addison quickly makes her way downstairs.

"But in the end, everyone here respects and admires me," Don says as Addison enters the study.

"Including your wife," Addison asks, ignoring the looks from the boys. "I'm sorry. It's just we heard about you guys splitting up. Right?"

"Yeah, that's uh, what we heard," Dean says.

"Yeah. Maggie and I are going through a tough time. Uh, it's a separation. Temporary," Don tells them. "Sometimes, you know, you grow apart. It's no one's fault."

"How would you describe the, uh, issues between you and your wife," Sam questions.

"It's just one of those marital misunderstandings, you know."

"No, I'm sorry, I don't."

"It's one of those vague, hard to define passages."

"She caught you cheating, huh," Dean says and Don stares at him. "I couldn't help but notice, uh, things were kind of cordial between you and your assistant. Pretty good with the ladies there, Mr. Stark. It's a blessing and a curse, isn't it?"

"Guys, I'm a people person. And I admire dynamic, confident women."

Addison raises an eyebrow. "Admire?"

"Okay, look, it's true, I had a recent little thing with a business associate. That's all it was."

"A thing," Dean repeats.

"Yeah."

"Like a shoe or a golf club," Sam says.

"Like a waffle iron," Dean jokes. "Yeah. See, Don, uh, wives generally think of an affair as something more than a thing."

"Yes and when Maggie found out, she needed some time off. Temporarily."

"Hmm. Now, if were to guess that the, uh, business associate was Wendy Goodson would we win a weekend trip to Maui?"

Don lets out a frustrated sigh. "No. Her death had nothing to do with the affair. It was over long before her accident."

"If it was an accident."

Don stares at them. "You're not implying Maggie was behind this."

"We are not implying anything," Addison says. "We just think you should be careful. And you should definitely take her to dinner. Some place really nice. Oh, and you should definitely apologize."

"Yeah. And, uh, grovel. Wouldn't hurt," Dean finishes as the trio walks out of the house.

Addison pulls out her phone and hands it to Sam. "I found a box of hex stuff that she left behind. And I don't think she's coming back any time soon."

"So Don admires Wendy. Biblically. Wendy dies weird and the scorned wife is into the dark stuff."

"While Don is just in the dark," Sam adds.

"Huh. It's kind of like _Bewitched_, you know. Don's Darrin. Don't even know it. A lot of laughs until, uh, you cheat on your wife."

"_Bewitched_ reference. Really?"

"Dude, Nicole Kidman was in the remake. Redhead. Hello."

"Hey, do you see these plants," Addison asks, motioning to the dead plants surrounding the front porch.

"Oh. It's kind of like the real estate lady's place. And Don't statue thing."

"You know, if she's strong enough, just being pissed off is enough to send some bad vibes their way," Sam says.

"Literally kill off everything around her just by PMSing at it? That's not creepy at all." Addison smacks his arm as Dean pulls out his phone and hits speed dial. "Bobby. Hey, it's Dean. Listen...Winchester. Yeah, very funny. So we need, uh, our kind of Terminix...A witch...Yeah, we're headed over to her place to get you some more specifics. So if you could just, uh...Yeah - Thank-" Dea snaps his phone shut. "He's on it."

* * *

After parking the Impala near the rental house Maggie was using, Dean makes his way inside while Sam and Addison stay with the car. Sam pops the hood as Addison pretends to be on her phone. Suddenly, a Porsche drives past them and pulls into the driveway of the rental house. Addison dials Dean's number, but gets a busy signal. She shakes her head and Sam slams the hood on the Impala shut. They run over to see Maggie Stark climb out of the sports car. "Mrs. Stark," Sam says as they each pull out their FBI badges. "Can we have a moment?"

"Of course. Um, would you mind coming back in, say, a half an hour? It's just a really bad time right now," Maggie replies.

"It's very important that we talk to you," Addison tells her.

"Of course, I'm happy to. I'm just in the middle of an emergency, so please come back. Thank you."

Maggie moves past them and continues towards the house. Sam and Addison exchange a look. "Do something," Addison mouths. Sam pushes down on the Porsche and sets the alarm off. Maggie stops and looks at them.

"I'm sorry, uh...Restless leg syndrome," Sam lies as Maggie turns the alarm off. They smile at Maggie and then make their way back to the Impala.

Dean joins them a few minutes later. He hand Sam a photo. "Spoiler alert. Jenny Klein's next. Swiped her photo off a hex deck, but Maggie's gonna know this is one, eventually. We gotta get over to Jenny's." The trio climb into the Impala and speed down the road. They arrive at Jenny's and Dean kicks open the door. Jenny was leaning over the sink, coughing up blood. Sam and Addison get to work searching for the coin while Dean helps Jenny. Sam finds the coin on top of the cabinet and destroys it by shooting it.

Dean helps Jenny onto the couch and she lays down. "There were tiny beating hearts in my cupcakes," Jenny disbelievingly says. "There were hearts in my cupcakes. Hearts in my cupcakes. That's never happened before! Hearts in my cupcakes!"

"Should I slug her," Dean mutters.

"Give it a second," Sam tells him.

Jenny sits up and turns to them. "Oh my God. What just happened?"

"You were hexed," Addison answers.

Jenny's jaw drops. "Hexed? Who are you people? What the hell do I do?"

"What you do is you go in there and you pack a bag, you get in your car, and you go," Dean says.

"Go where?"

"It doesn't matter. Five or six hundred miles ought to do it," Sam replies. "You got someone real powerful real pissed and they're trying to get rid of you now."

"And you probably want to cool things with Don Stark," Addison adds.

Jenny frowns. "Don Stark? What are you talking about?"

"You and Don," Dean says. "You know."

"'You know?' There's no 'you know.'"

"No," Sam asks.

"Don Stark is my boss. That's it. He's married for God's sakes."

"Yeah, well," Dean trails off.

"Me and Don Stark. Ewe."

* * *

The Impala pulls up near the art museum in time to see the bust of Don Stark break in half. They had been following Maggie since leaving Jenny's apartment. "Okay, now she's just getting nasty," Dean comments. "Killing the girlfriend is one thing, but his commemorative bust? That's gotta hurt."

"She'll take the whole town out. She doesn't care who gets in the way," Sam replies.

Dean's phone rings and takes it out. "Hey, Bobby, what do you got?...Yeah? You think it will take her out?...All right...Nah, I don't need to write it down. I'll remember it. Go ahead." Addison rolls her eyes and tosses a small notebook and pen onto Dean's lap. "Mmm hmm...The - wh - wait, hang on, hang on." He grabs the notebook and pen and starts jotting everything down. "I'll remember. Yeah. It's fine."

* * *

Addison raises an eyebrow as she sits across from Dean, who was happily digging into a lemon meringue pie. Sam walks in, carrying a bag of chicken feet. "Dude, pie," Dean says. Sam drops the bag on the table next to the pie. Addison quickly stands up and runs over to the bathroom. "Oh, that's-"

"Chicken feet. Like the recipe calls for. Butcher's fridge is down," Sam tells them.

Dean covers his nose. "I can smell that."

"Uh, says the power's been wonky and that he's lost so much product that he probably won't make rent. Ditto every shop on the block. Nothing but burst pipes and blackouts. He says it's like all of a sudden the town ran out of luck."

Dean grabs the bag and walks over to Sam. "So coincidence, right?"

"Yeah. We're past the point of dead flowers."

"What can I say, I guess the witch is pissed. All right, uh, better get a move on. Here, why don't you just..." Sam stares at the bag. "Can you take the feet?" Sam holds up a bowl and Dean drops the bag in. Sounds of Addison throwing up come from the bathroom.

* * *

"What the hell," Dean asks as the Impala stops in front of the art museum. Police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of the museum. The trio quickly makes their way into the museum and finds a body covered in a white sheet in the middle of the floor. A puddle of blood was next to a small object also covered in a white sheet. "Whoa. Clean up on aisle seven."

"I doubt she did this to her own auction," Addison says, looking at the damaged paintings.

"No. Obviously, it was someone who hated her guts and wanted her party trashed."

"Don Stark," Sam states.

"So the mister is a witch himself," Dean says as they walk out of the museum. "It means we got not just one pissed off witch, we got two. It's full on _War of the Roses_."

"_Bewitched_ just got a lot less funny."

"Just like when they switched Darrins."

They climb into the Impala and make their way over to Don's house. "Where is she," Sam asks.

"She'll be here. They've been throwing thunderbolts at each other's favorite toys. There's nothing left to destroy but each other. This is basically ground zero."

"I hope so. We'll need them both in the same place we want to take them both down," Addison says.

"Not 'we.' Us," Dean counters, motioning to him and Sam. "You're staying here. Even if I have to handcuff to the car."

Addison nods. "Yeah, no problem." Sam looks between his brother and sister-in-law in disbelief. "I will stay right, Dean. I won't move a muscle."

"I'm glad we got that settled." Dean notices headlights heading towards them. "Shields up, Captain." The duck as the sports car speeds into the driveway. Dean grabs the bowl of ingredients and the boys climb out of the Impala before running across the street. Dean chants the incantation that Bobby had given him. Sam lights a match and tosses in the bowl. But nothing happens.

"Let me guess. Chicken feet," Maggie asks. "Not chilled?"

"For obvious reasons, you won't be leaving this room," Don tells the boys. "Well, you will be leaving just not alive. Maggie?" The witches chant in Romanian.

"Okay, plan B," Sam says.

Dean glances at him. "What's plan B?"

"Talking."

"Now? Really?"

"This is obviously a domestic dispute so if you can't kill them, counsel them."

"Yeah. You know what? Not my area." The witches hold out their hands as they finish the spell. "Okay, okay, okay. Uh...Look, obviously, you two are capable of wiping each other out. Right? But you haven't. Huh? Which means that you two, you still value whatever it is you've got. And - and you wanna keep that dance going. Maybe it's punishment. Maybe it's sick, messed up, erotic, kinky, clamps and feathers kind of love."

"Okay, okay," Sam says, stepping forward. "That's going way too deep there, cowboy. Look, what he's trying to say is that you two whatever it is you have, you're bonded."

"Are you out of your mind," Maggie questions. "He cheated on me. Humiliated me."

"We're not trying to say what Don did was right." Don turns to Sam. "When a relationship cracks, usually both parties have a hand in it."

"Indeed," Don agrees.

"You're defending him," Maggie disbelievingly asks. She waves a hand and Sam doubles over in pain.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean shouts. "Look, nobody can defend Don. Right? Totally. But, uh, we get that you feel betrayed because you were."

"Don't suck up to her," Don says. He waves a hand and Dean goes flying into a glass door.

"I was betrayed. By all of them," Maggie says, turning to Don. "Carl introduced you to Wendy. Dewey covered for you. Wendy did you."

"Okay, okay, look," Sam says, pushing himself up. "I gotta say, I don't think Don was lying when he said he regrets the whole Wendy thing."

"Thing. Sit down." Maggie waves a finger and Sam crashes to the floor.

"Affair. That's right. Terrible."

"I think the only thing he regrets is getting caught."

"Wendy was nothing to me. It was over as soon as it started," Don declares.

"She was part of a pattern, okay. I've had eight hundred years of this. Do not make me bring up the Renaissance."

"Oh, oh! You're one to talk. That 1492 ring any bells?"

"The man was about to set sail! He could possibly fall off the edge of the Earth. I took pity. So, what's your excuse?"

"I told you. Nothing happened with the Medici chick. You've always been insanely jealous."

"Oh, I wonder why. Jenny, Wendy."

"Jenny? Nothing happened with Jenny. She's just my assistant."

Maggie scoffs. "Uh huh."

Dean pushes himself up. "It's true. She, uh, she told us. Just an assistant."

Maggie waves a hand and Dean goes flying. "Is that true?"

"Yes. I swear it, babe," Don says. "I would never. I made a mistake. I'm sorry, Maggie."

"See? See," Sam says, standing. "Guys. Guys. You're talking. All these years, you - you buried your anger and your disappointment. Till it tore you apart. All you needed to do was talk."

"And I would've missed the nuking my melon just took," Dean comments. "Who wants that?"

Maggie wave a hand and slams Dean into the wall. Don waves a finger and bees attack Dean. "Nice touch," Maggie says.

Don smiles. "Thank you. He's right. I couldn't kill you. All I ever wanted is you, Mags. I've been crushing on you since forever. You're the woman I wanna never grow old with."

"I could never murder you either, Don. It's crazy...but true," Maggie replies. Don leans in and the reunited couple kiss.

"Somebody wanna call these things off," Dean asks as the bees continue to buzz around him. Don snaps his fingers and the bees vanish. The boys make their way out of the house and Dean stops seeing Addison sitting on the porch. She looks them over, then turns and makes her way back to the Impala.

* * *

"Next time you're staying here," Dean argues as they climb out of the Impala. He and Addison had spent the entire drive back to the motel arguing.

"Just because we're married now, doesn't give you the right to boss me around," Addison snaps as they enter the motel room. "I know my limitations and you need trust that I'll know when to step back." Dean pulls out his flask and takes a swig. "Seriously?"

"It's been a long day."

"And it's not over yet." The hunters turn to see a man standing in the room. Dean takes out his gun and aims it at the man. "Hi, Sam. Hi, Dean and Addison."

Sam scoffs. "Do we know you?"

"Well, I definitely know you. You're the dead guys. Well, you will be in a minute." Dean shoots the man in the heart and black ooze streams out. The bullet falls out and the hunters look at in disbelief. "Sorry. You're a bit outmatched." Dean goes to punch the leviathan, but gets thrown into the wall. Addison quickly backs up as Sam moves punch the monster. The leviathan grabs his hand and wraps a hand around Sam's neck.

Suddenly, the leviathan releases Sam and falls to the ground. The hunters turn and see Don walking into the room. "Don," Dean says, standing. "Wow, thank you. We owe you."

"Good God, what is that thing," Don asks, looking at the leviathan.

"We kinda need to figure that out," Addison answers.

"It is on our to do list," Dean adds.

"You know, uh, find a bottomless pit and drop it in," Don comments, moving past the trio. "That spell will only last a for a few days."

Sam frowns as Don kneels next to his bed. "Uh, what are you even doing here?"

"Uh, apparently, saving your lives. Twice." Don pulls out a coin from underneath the mattress. "Got it."

"Maggie? Seriously?"

"She was gonna kill us," Dean asks as Don turns to the other bed. "We just saved your damn marriage."

"Yeah. But, to be fair, you also tried to kill her," Don replies, grabbing the second coin. "You know how she is when she gets a bug up her ass. Gotta love her, right?" The trio stare at the witch. "Right. Bottomless pit. Ciao."

* * *

Addison groans as she stretches. Being squashed been the boys on the drive up to Rufus' cabin was not fun. The leviathan was chained up and gagged in the backseat. She walks over to Dean was filling the Impala while Sam was inside the gas station getting food. "Look, I get it. You don't want anything to happen to me or the Munchkin. But I can't just sit around while you go and fight the big bads. I'm terrified that if I stay behind you'll go on a hunt and not come back. I - I - I can't..." She trails off as tears fall.

Dean rubs a hand over his face as he pulls her into a tight embrace. "Your hormones are a pain in the ass, Ads."

"You love when my hormones make me super horny."

"Can't argue with that one."

Addison laughs as she pulls back. She wipes away the tears. "And just so you know, you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you. I promise I won't tell Sam." Dean glances inside the gas station and sees Sam standing at the register. Addison comfortingly rubs his arm and he turns back to her.


	6. Slash Fiction

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.  
AN: Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, or alerts.

Chapter 06 - Slash Fiction

Dean walks down into the basement of Rufus' cabin with Sam behind him. The leviathan they had captured, Chet, was chained up in a chair with Bobby standing in front of him. "And how are my two favorite meat-sicles," Chet asks.

Dean glances at him before turning to Bobby. "Is he still sucking air?"

"Greatest hits didn't do the trick," Bobby answers, setting a syringe down on a table full of tool. "I'm down to B-sides and deep cuts."

"Well, you better figure out something quick. That whammy that witch dude put on his is only gonna last for a few days. He gets his spinach back, we're gonna end up having to drop a car on him just to stop him."

"Actually, Edgar walked away from that car. He's fine. Well, he is a little pissed at you, but..." Chet smirks at the looks on the hunters' faces. "Oh. You didn't know?"

Dean glares at him. "Why don't you shut your cake trap?"

"Oh."

"Bobby, you've been using all this stuff and he still won't talk," Sam questions. Bobby shakes his head as Dean walks over to Chet. Dean pulls over a stool and sits down.

"Huddle over, coach," Chet mocks.

"How'd you find us," Dean questions.

"It was easy. I used pattern recognition software and a basic heuristic algorithm to track your known aliases."

Dean stares then looks at Sam and Bobby. "Great, just what we need, a Mensa monster," Bobby comments.

Dean stands and walks away while Chet laughs. "All right, let's just start with the start. Where'd you get our aliases," Sam asks.

"From your trench coated friend, obviously. When we were all nestled in at Camp Cas, kind of got the full download," Chet explains. "That's just how we do."

"So why are you talking to us, Chet," Bobby asks, moving towards the leviathan. "You're not dumb. Why are you spilling state secrets?"

"Because I'm not scared of you. You can't stop me. You can't stop any of us. We can't be killed, you stupid little chew toys. You are aware that I'm the least of your concerns, right?" Silence from the hunters. "Oh. You haven't watched the news today, have you?"

* * *

Addison sighs as she watches the reporter talk about two men, who were identical to Dean and Sam, murdering everyone in a bank. Bobby turns off the old TV and turns to the boys. "Busy morning, you two," he comments.

"The sons of bitches xeroxed us," Dean angrily says.

"But I don't understand how," Sam says.

"I don't know. Maybe one of them touched you at the hospital," Bobby replies, grabbing some a beer from the fridge.

"It was the hair," Chet yells from the basement. The hunters stare in the direction of the basement. "Not too hard to lift some DNA out of a motel shower drain, guys."

"You can copy people like that," Dean asks. Bobby shrugs in response. "Awesome. Well what is their plan exactly?"

"Squeeze us," Sam says. "Turn us into the most wanted men in America."

"All right. Well, that settles it. We find these ass monkeys and kill them ourselves."

"Dean, every cop in the country is gonna be looking for you guys," Addison says.

"Exactly, Ads. So what's the point in trying to hide?"

"Better than sticking your fool neck out. These things are smarter than you," Bobby tells them.

"Gee, Bobby, don't sugarcoat it," Sam replies.

"You don't have a clue how to kill them or slow them down. And your plan is what, go right at them? Genius."

"They're wearing our faces, Bobby. This is personal," Dean snaps.

Sam nods in agreement. "I'm with Dean here."

Bobby sighs, knowing that there was no winning. "Well, if you're gonna be stupid, you might as well be smart about it." He walks over to an old backpack and takes out a worn journal. "You need to see a fellow named Frank Devereaux."

"Who's he," Sam asks.

"He's a jackass and a lunatic, but he owes me one, from back in Port Huron." Bobby hands Dean a piece of paper. "In the meantime, I'll keep working on Chatty Cathy here, see if I can figure out what makes him die."

Addison scrunches her nose. "Is it weird that I find it insulting that they didn't xerox me?"

Dean shoots her a disbelievingly look. "Really, Ads?"

* * *

Addison stands back, watching as the guys load up the Impala. It felt odd to be staying behind; to be the one not involved in the actual hunt. "Just try and come back in one piece," she says.

Sam bends down and embraces her. "I'll keep an eye on him," he quietly says, then presses a kiss to her cheek. He nods at Dean before climbing into the Impala.

"Stay here until we've taken care of these sons of bitches," Dean says, slamming the trunk shut.

"No arguments here," Addison replies. Dean stares at her, surprised. It was less than a week ago where she was pissed at having to sit in the Impala while he and Sam dealt with the witches. "Hey, there's a monster version of you running around who would have no problem literally eating me. I have no problem hanging back on this one." She leans up and softly kisses him. "Be careful." He kisses her once more, then climbs into the Impala. Addison smirks as she watches the Impala drive off.

* * *

Bobby hears footsteps coming down the stairs as he shoots Chet. He was trying to see if bullet had any effect. Salt, iron, and silver had no effect on him. "Woo," Chet exclaims. "Do it again. Come on, do it again." Bobby sets the shotgun down on the table. "Just gonna touch me in the morning then just walk away."

"You're still talking," Bobby snaps.

Chet chuckles. "Aren't you sick of this yet?"

"You bleed black snot, sure, but you bleed, you can die."

"Sure, sport, whatever you say. Try the acid again, why don't you? Poor sap, you're stumped."

"Give it a rest, mouthy."

"How long you think these will hold once the spell wears off, hmm? Ticktock, old man. I'm gonna really enjoy eating both of you."

"I said shut up."

"And then I'm gonna eat everyone you ever said hello to."

Addison grabs a machete off the table and slices Chet's head off. "Holy shit," she says, staring at Chet's head on the floor.

"Well, that's something," Bobby says.

Addison tosses the machete on the table. "I'm going to store. Did you need me to get you anything?"

* * *

Addison frowns as she stares at her laptop. A knocking on the cabin door cause her and Bobby, who was putting away the groceries, to freeze. They exchange a look and they each grab a gun. Bobby walks over to the door and looks through the peep hole. "What the..." he mutters. Addison raises an eyebrow as Bobby smooths down his beard before opening the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You're all charm, Bobby," a familiar, female, voice replies.

"So my therapist keeps telling me. How'd you find me?"

"I'm a cop, remember? You gonna invite me in?"

"Well, you may not want me to. I got one of the big mouths downstairs."

"So I won't go downstairs," the woman says, then pushes past Bobby into the house.

Addison looks between Bobby and the woman. "Jody, this is Addison, Dean's wife. Addison, Sheriff Jody Mills," Bobby introduces.

"Oh, from when we had the - the zombies," Addison says and Jody nods. "Okay, well, uh, yeah. I, uh, I - I'm gonna go call Dean and tell them what we know. So, yeah." She scoops her laptop and a bag of chips, then runs upstairs.

Jody sets the bag of food and six pack on the table. "I, uh, I wanted to come thank you."

"Thank me," Bobby asks.

"Yeah. Seeing as they were fresh out of 'thanks for saving me for that liver eating surgeon' cards at the store."

"Oh, that. Just doing my job. Which nobody pays me for."

"Right. How you doing, Bobby?"

"I'm fine. Every day's a gift."

"Your house just burned down."

"As you can see, I got a roof over me."

"Bobby, let someone be nice to you for five minutes."

Bobby pause. "Okay. But not too nice. I can't be going soft."

"Of course not. Now, I can cook. Ish. Why don't you let me make you something? Maybe put this new place of yours in some kind of order. Come on, I owe you that much."

"Okay. Thanks, sheriff."

Jody grins at him. "Jody."

* * *

"Chopping their heads off won't kill them, but it'll slow them down pretty good. Till they fuse back up, anyhow," Bobby says over the speaker phone as the boys speed down a dark highway in piece of shit car that Dean had hot wired. They heading to St. Louis after Sam realized that the leviathans were hitting cities that they had worked cases in before.

"Well, that's something, I guess. I mean, assuming we can even get close to them," Sam replies.

"Yeah. Believe me, I don't want you walking right up to them either. I'm still looking for something you can shoot at them."

"Good times. All right, thanks, Bobby," Dean tells him.

"You take mayo, right, Bobby," a voice asks, causing the boys to exchange a look.

"You got a chick over there?"

"What? No."

"Yes," Addison answers. "She's making him dinner and everything. Anyway, where are you guys headed to?"

"Uh, St. Louis. That's where we-" Sam starts.

"They already hit St. Louis. It was that diner that you loved, Dean."

"Connor's Diner," Dean disbelievingly says.

"Yep."

"All right, so much for that. I guess we're off to, uh, Ankeny, Iowa," Sam says. "Call us if you guys get anything else."

"No problem. All right, you guys be careful."

"You too," Dean replies, then Sam hangs up.

* * *

The boys are walking through Ankeny when an Impala drives right past them. "Sam, Sam. Hold on. Don't move, don't move," Dean says. LeviathanDean and LeviathanSam were sitting in the front seat.

"Oh, no. This is all sorts of wrong," Sam comments as the fakeImpala stops down the road.

"Oh, those are nice wheels. I'll tell you what, when this is over, I'm stealing those rims." Dean takes out his phone and hits speed dial for Bobby while watching the leviathans take a couple of guns out of the trunk. "Bobby, we got eyes on them...It's like looking at a fun house mirror. All right, well, tell me you got something, otherwise we have to get in close." Sam frowns when LeviathanDean leans into the trunk. "It's too late, we gotta-" A police car pulls up in front of the boys. "Hang on."

"Hands in the air," a sheriff demands as another cop car pus up.

"Whoa, whoa, big misunderstanding. Look, the guys you want-"

"Shut up."

"There right there. Just turn around. Look."

"Drop the phone, put your hands in the air."

Dean drops his phone as the cops place handcuffs on him and Sam. LeviathanDean winks at him before driving off.

* * *

"So, you and Bobby, huh," Addison says, walking over to where Jody was cleaning up a spilt cup of coffee. Bobby had been in the basement all day, still trying to find something that worked on the leviathans.

Jody laughs. "Not much to tell."

"You know what I could go for? A nice, big, juicy steak."

"When I was pregnant, I couldn't stop craving walnuts." Some of the cleaning solution hits Addison's toes and she hisses, backing away. Jody shoots her a confused look. Bobby runs into the dining area and Jody turns to him. He stares at the rag in her hand. "Oh, sorry, little snafu here." Bobby runs over and kisses Jody. "Okay, wasn't expecting that reaction."

"What the hell was in that bucket," Bobby asks and Jody stares at him.

"You know what, I am starving," Addison says, carefully making her way around way around the small puddle. Bobby frowns. He tenses noticing her burnt toes. He takes the rag from Jody and tosses it. It hits Addison in the face and she screams out in pain.

Bobby pulls Jody back. "What is going," the sheriff asks.

"For starters, that ain't Addison."

* * *

Dean turns when the sheriff enters the holding area. He was in a cell while Sam was in a different part of the station. "Hey. I have a right to my phone call."

"A right," the sheriff repeats. "You killed how many people last couple days, kidnap a pregnant woman, and you want me to hop on your rights?"

Dean frowns in confusion, then shakes his head. "Look, I didn't - Please...just give me one phone call."

The sheriff stares at him, then pulls out his cell and types the number that Dean gives him. "Boys," Bobby answers.

"Bobby, we got popped."

"Okay, I'll be there as soon as-"

"No, no. There's no time. Look, we saw them, they saw us. so we are coming to get us, you read me? Tell me you got something."

"There's a chemical. Sodium borate."

"Okay, let me get Mr. Wizard on speed dial."

"No, no, it ain't as weird as it sounds. It's found in industrial cleaners and soaps and laundry powder. Just look for anything with the word 'borax' on it."

"You want me to desperate housewife these mothers?"

"Just trust me. It burns them bad enough to slow them down. So get the strongest you can find. Hear me?"

"Borax burns. Got it."

"Then douse them, then you get close, and then chop the heads off."

"Got it."

"And keep the heads separate."

"Bobby, you're a genius. Thanks. Is Ads-" The sheriff snaps the phone shut. "What'd you do that for?"

"Borax? Decapitation," the sheriff says. "What kind of sickos are you and your friends?"

"Hey, you listen to me," Dean says as the sheriff starts to leave. "If you don't go get every ounce, every drop of whatever that stuff is, in this place right now, we're all gonna die."

"Whoa, you're crazier than I thought."

"Hey!" The sheriff ignores him and walks out of the holding area. "Damnit!" Dean runs a hand over his face as he pace the cell. He turns when he hears footsteps and sees the sheriff, who looked terrified and confused. "What is it? What happened?"

"I, uh...it's just...I don't know what I just saw."

"Let me out of here." The sheriff quickly unlocks the cell door and Dean walks out. "Okay, listen to me and we'll live. Keep your head down. Get to the supply closet, get anything that says 'borax' on it. Bring it here. Now. Go."

The sheriff runs off while Dean searches the police station. "Sorry," he tells the dead officer lying on a desk while grabbing a gun. He turns and sees Sam. "Sammy." Sam coldly stares at him. "Not Sammy."

Dean shoots LeviathanSam but nothing happens and he gets thrown into a display case. Dean groans as he stands up. He breaks open a case and takes out the fireman's axe. LeviathanSam laughs. "Cute. Really think you can get close enough to use it?"

"He can't but I can." A machete slices through LeviathanSam's neck and his head falls to the ground. Dean moves back as the leviathan's body crumbles to the ground and reveals Addison standing behind him.

Dean points the axe at Addison. "How do I know you're you?" Addison pushes up her sleeve and shows him the fresh cut on her arm. "I thought I asked you to stay with Bobby."

"Remember when we went to the store Sunday night? The me that left with you wasn't me. I left with the other you." Addison shakes her head. "Let's just find Sam - the real Sam and get the hell out of here and then I'll explain."

The sheriff appears in the squad room with a bucket of borax. "Where's my brother," Dean asks. The sheriff leads them to the interrogation rooms and Dean kicks down the door. The sheriff tosses the bucket of borax on LeviathanDean and Dean chops his head off. Sam was sitting at the table with a shocked look on his face.

The sheriff uncuffs Sam from the table. "So, the FBI is on the way."

"Yeah, listen about that, uh..."

"Whatever I can do. Especially if it involves lying about everything I just saw."

"Awesome. Uh, is there a way you can help them be 'dead,'" Addison asks.

"Yeah, quote-unquote," Dean adds.

"Yeah. Yeah, I should be able to swing that," the sheriff replies.

"All right. Come on, let's grab a mop." Dean starts out of the room with Addison. He stops when he doesn't hear Sam and turns to his brother. "Sammy, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam replies.

"And you're going to tell me how you're here and not with Bobby," Dean says as he and Addison walk out of the room.

* * *

Dean shakes his head as they climb out of the piece of shit car. They were parked near a lake. "So they take you and xerox you for some kind of rescue mission," he asks, popping open the trunk.

"That and to see the look on your face when the leviathans ate me," Addison replies. She leans against the car and rubs a hand over her belly. "All I want is a hot shower, a warm bed, and to sleep for the next week."

"I'll second that." Dean opens the duffle with two heads wrapped in plastic. He looks at Sam, who had been silent most of the ride out of Iowa. "You sure you wanna dump these things? I'm thinking they might actually come in handy down the road. What do you think?" Sam remains silent and Dean sighs. "What? What is it? Talk."

"Nothing," Sam says.

"Well, that's convincing. Look, did Monster R Us give you jeebs? Cause I gotta be honest, I ain't looking in the mirror for a while myself."

"Okay." Sam turns to his older brother. "You really wanna know what's wrong?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you know my motto: here to help."

Sam scoffs. "'Here to help.' Kind of like you helped Amy?"

"Listen, Sam-"

"Don't - don't lie to me again. You know what, don't even talk to me." Sam sighs. "Yeah, I can't." He grabs his bags out of the backseat. "You know what, Dean? I can't."

"You can't what?"

"I can't talk to you right now. Dean, I can't even be around you right now."

"Okay, so...?"

"So I think you both should just go on without me. Go."

"All right. Sorry, Sam."

"Sam," Addison calls as he walks off. Sam ignores her and she turns to Dean. A broken look was on his face and she sighs.


	7. The Mentalists

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Chapter 07 - The Mentalists

Addison rubs her belly as they walk down a street, looking for a 'new' car. She was sure that she missed the Impala more than Dean did. She takes another bite of her barbecue sandwich watching as he checks his phone. She knew what he was looking for. Sam hadn't even bothered to call or respond to her texts. They stop next to a dull blue car. Dean looks around, then pulls out a lock hook and unlocks it.

Addison scowls as she climbs into the passenger seat. She looks at Dean, with disbelieving look. He ignores her and hotwires the car. It starts and the radio comes on. A pair of fuzzy dice were hanging from the rearview mirror. She yanks them down and tosses them into the backseat. "You're listening to the morning chaos with me, Bananas Foster," the radio announcer says.

"The hell I am, ass hat," Dean snaps, moving to change the station.

"And now for the news of the weird," Bananas Foster continues causing Dean to pause. "Two very odd murders to be exact. Mediums are dying in Lily Dale, the most psychic town in America. So if you want to know your future, stick to that 900 line cause is it me or should those guys have seen it coming."

Addison leans forward and changes the station to the local classic rock one as Dean drives down the street. "I miss the Impala," she says.

"You and me both," Dean replies. Feeling the baby kick, Addison grabs his free hand and places it on her belly. She smiles noticing his small smile. Through things with Sam weren't their greatest at the moment, she knew that everything would work out in the end. At least she hoped so.

* * *

Dean and Addison flash their fake FBI badges at the local cops standing outside of a house. The house had belonged to the latest psychic to be murdered and upon reading about the death online, the hunters had exchange disbelieving looks. No one was standing guard outside of the seance room. Addison rolls her eyes when Dean sits down in a chair at the round table.

Noises fill the room and Addison stares at him. Dean presses another switch under the table and the curtains move. He smirks. "O spirits of the further, am I going to win the Powerball," Dean asks. He presses a different button and a knocking sound fills the room. "Ads, we're gonna be rich."

Addison smirks at him. "O spirits of the further, is Dean getting laid anytime this week?"

One knock. "Spirits say I am."

She waves a hand along her body. "This says you're not. Anyway, I say we get something to eat."

* * *

Addison raises an eyebrow at the sign sitting by the door of the Good Graces Cafe. "Hello!" They turn to see a cheerful waiter walking towards them. "First time at Good Graces?"

"Yes," Dean answers.

"Well, we're a hundred percent locally sourced, biodynamic, and you get a free affirmation with every order."

"Think we'll source a taco joint."

A dismayed look appears on the waiter's face. "All right."

Addison's halfway out the door when Dean grabs her arm. She lets out a frustrated sigh as he pulls her over to a booth where Sam was sitting. "You always wear a suit to get your palm read?" Sam ignores them in response. "Yeah. Not surprised you caught this one. It's on every morning zoo in America. You mind?" Sam waves a hand at the empty seat across from him while moving the file he was looking through to his lap and they slide in across from him. "So, we, uh, we went to the scene. Wires, speakers, enough EMF to make your hair stand up. Don't even think about getting a reading. Oh, and, uh, if this hadn't have been two psychics that bit it...I would have just chalked this up as being, uh, dumb and accident. And I know, I know. This whole town's supposedly calling ghost. But that takes some serious spell work and some serious mojo. The only books this lady had were Oprah crap. When was the last time you actually saw a real psychic? Huh? Pamela? Missouri? Anyway, this is good. And, uh, how you been?"

"And what can I get for you," the waiter brightly asks, suddenly appearing by the booth.

"Uh, pancakes, side of pig. Coffee, black."

"A omelet with extra peppers and some Tabasco sauce. And some orange juice," Addison answers.

"Fantastic. You are a virile manifestation of the divine," the waiter tells her before walking away.

"What the fuck did he say to me," Dean asks.

"He said I have pregnancy glow," Addison replies.

Sam shakes his head. "Dean..."

"Oh, he speaks," Dean quips.

"Look-"

"Sam. Look, we're all here. All right, the chance of either one of us leaving while people are still dying out there..." Dean makes a zero with his hand. "You might as well bite the bullet and work with us on this one."

"I don't know if I can."

"I'm not asking you to open a can of worms. I'm not even asking you where the hell you been the past week and a half."

"Good."

"I'm just saying let's try and stop the killings. That's it."

"Okay."

"Okay? Good."

Addison shifts when she notices a woman staring at them. "Can I help you?"

The woman glances at Addison before turning back to the boys. "You're the brothers, from the-"

"Oh, no, no," Sam interrupts. "The Winchester guys on the news a couple weeks back? No, we get that a lot."

"Yeah, those depraved killers got put down like the dogs that they were," Dean adds. "Yeah. Us on the other hand, we're completely harmless."

The woman giggles. "Oh, yeah, I'm sorry. Silly me. I can see by your energies you're completely gentle." The woman looks at Addison. "Except your. Your energy is very hostile."

Dean smirks. "Yeah, she's not exactly the friendliest person."

"Excuse my friend," a man says, walking up and wrapping an arm around the woman's shoulders. "She's excitable. Sweetheart, look at them, hmm? They're FBI."

The woman's eyes go wide. "Oh!"

"I'm Russian. We can spot the law. You must be here about the tragedies."

"Oh, we're just beside ourselves about what happened."

"Yeah. And so close to festival season, huh," Dean asks.

"Yeah. No."

"Of course we are worried, we have no idea what's going on, huh," the man tells them. He takes out a business and holds it out to Sam. "Nikolai. Let me know if I can help you. I'm highly intuitive."

Sam takes the business card. "Nikolai Lishin, spoon bender," he reads.

"World famous." Nikolai grabs a spoon off the table. "Come to my demonstration at the festival, huh? Teach you to harness the power of your mind." Nikolai lays the spoon on the table. "Come. Let's leave them be."

"So glad we decided to vacation here," Dean comments as Nikolai and the woman walk away.

"All right," Sam says, clearing his throat. "Here we go." He opens the file he had been looking through earlier. "First death. Second death." He turns the file towards them.

"What are looking at," Addison asks.

"Well, see this. This is Imelda Graven. Death number one. She was brained by her own crystal ball."

"Bummer and ironic," Dean chuckles. He flips through the pictures of the psychics. "Same necklace?"

"Yeah. See Imelda gave it to Goldy in her will."

"Cursed object," Addison asks.

"Worth looking into. Goldy's next of kind lives in town. Also a psychic."

"Oh, good. I haven't had my fill," Dean comments.

Sam grabs his spoon and watches as it bends. He holds it up. "He broke my spoon."

* * *

"Melanie Golden," Dean asks as they walk up to small house. Two women walk out of the house. One was a pale brunette and the other was an African-American woman. The brunette looks up and they each flash their FBI badges. "Hi. Uh, got a minute?"

"You want me to stay," the African-American woman asks.

"No, that's okay," Melanie replies. The women hug before the African-American woman leaves. "A friend. Just heard about my grandmother. Which is, I guess, why you guys are here. So come on in." The trio follow Melanie into her home. She runs over to a suitcase sitting on the coffee table and quickly closes. "Sorry. Just got back."

"You were out of town," Dean asks.

"I work the circuit. Hotels, conventions, you know."

"Oh. No offense, but, uh, you don't seem all that psychic."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, I mean, you know...where's all the, uh, crystals and pyramids," Dean says, motioning around to Melanie's normal looking living room.

"I'm off the clock. Also, not psychic." The trio shoots Melanie disbelieving looks. "What? It's an honest living."

"Interesting definition of honest."

"Well, I honestly read people. It's just less woo-woo, more body language. Like you three. Long time partners. But, um, a lot of tension. Especially between you two," Melanie says, looking between the boys." She looks at Sam. "You're pissed." She turns to Dean. "And you're stressed. It's not brain surgery. It's kinda why my grandma and me didn't get along. I mean, she'd go full smoke machine, but she still actually believed in all that stuff. So..."

"You don't."

"You do?"

"I've got an open mind. You'd be surprised."

"Hmmm."

Addison clears her throat. "We're sorry to ask this, but there's a necklace that belong to your grandmother-"

"Don't have it. Everything went straight to the Emporium," Melanie tells them. "She had a deal with the owner."

"The Emporium," Sam asks.

* * *

The Emporium turned out to be a used goods store in downtown Lily Dale. They walk over to the counter where a man was drinking coffee and reading the paper. "You're looking for something," the man greets when they reach him.

"You're good," Dean sarcastically replies.

"You Jimmy Tomorrow," Sam asks.

Jimmy nods. "Mmm hmm."

"We're looking for a necklace."

"Oh. Romantic."

"It would've come in with Grandma Goldy's effects," Sam says, taking out a photo of the necklace.

Jimmy taps the photo. "Oh, yeah, yes, you do know that this is the Orb of Thessaly."

"We did not know," Dean replies.

Jimmy grabs an old box and places it on the counter. "Very powerful, very rare."

"Let me guess. Very expensive."

"Worth every penny," Jimmy tells them, opening the box.

He takes out a jewelry box and opens it to reveal the necklace. "Well, in that case, we'll be taking the State's Evidence discount," Dean says, as the trio flash their FBI badges.

Jimmy frowns. "What's going on?"

"A murder investigation," Addison says, reaching for the necklace.

Jimmy grabs her wrist and Addison feels Dean tense beside her. "You know, I give private energetic readings."

Addison rips her arm out of Jimmy's grasp. "No, thank you."

Jimmy looks at Sam. "A loss weighs on you, you're angry. It's complicated. Come see me, agent."

Sam stares at Jimmy while Addison grabs the necklace. Jimmy holds out a business card and Sam reluctantly takes it. "Thanks, Jimmy, we'll see," Dean tells him, then follows Sam and Addison.

"The Bureau's gonna reimburse me for the necklace, right," Jimmy asks.

"Oh, we'll send you a check." Dean catches up with Sam and Addison as they leave the store. "Went a little _Mentalist_ on you there, didn't he," he says to Sam. Sam glances at him, unamused. "All right. Next question. What's an Orb of Thessaly?"

"Well, this thing was made in Taiwan," Addison says, handing the necklace over to Sam.

"Oh, a fake, around here. Imagine that. Of course, that means that, uh, whatever's killing mediums is still out there," Dean says they reach the piece of shit car they were currently using.

* * *

"Probably should've bent those with the power of his mind," Dean comments as they enter the home of Nikolai. Blood covered the coffee table.

"Chief," Sam says, walking over to a middle aged man. "We met at the station."

The police chief nods. "Right. Morning, agent."

"Morning. Uh, these are Agents Borne and Parsons. So, what happened?"

"It's a weird one. Chest full of cutlery."

"Uh, we're gonna look around, let us know if you got any leads," Dean tells him.

"Oh, I got leads coming out of my ass. As of 9:00, our tip line had forty-six calls. All from clairvoyants that know what really happened."

"What's the popular theory," Addison asks.

"It's a toss up between a ghost and some sort of ogre that only attacks Russians."

"Policing Lily Dale sounds fun."

"It was this or Los Angeles."

"So, these clairvoyants, did they give any details as to why they thought it was a ghost or, uh, a Russian ogre," Sam questions.

"Their spirit monkey said so. Plus apparently this guy claims he had a vision of his own death. Cutlery and all."

Dean's cell phone rings. "Excuse me." He walks a couple of feet away while Sam and Addison continue to talk with the sheriff. "Hello?"

"Agent Borne? It's Melanie Golden."

"Everything okay?"

"Did you mean it when you said you had an open mind?"

* * *

"I hadn't checked it until today," Melanie tells the three hunters sitting on her couch. She was clutching her cordless phone. "I mean, the only person who called my landline was my grandma."

"It's okay. Go on," Sam reassures.

"Look, I wouldn't put any stock in it. I mean, she was always calling me with some crazy dream she was sure was a sign, that kind of thing. But, uh, is it true Nikolai had a - a real vision of his death?"

"It's what we were told," Addison answers.

"Well, so did she. The day she died."

"What'd she say," Dean asks.

Melanie places the phone of the coffee table. "Well, you can listen to it if you want. She said she was in a seance, um, then the lights go, it's freezing."

"Wait, she said that," Sam questions. "That the room got cold?"

"Yeah. Why, is that important?" The hunters exchange a look. "What? What is it?"

"A ghost," Dean answers. "The real deal."

"Come on." Melanie stares at the looks on the hunters' faces. "You're serious."

"Yeah, see, there's, uh, fake woo woo crap and there's real woo woo crap."

"Well, yeah, but ghosts?"

"Well, trust me, there's a lot weirder out there than that."

"So, um, the _X-Files_ is real or you just stopped talking like an FBI agent."

"Well, um, we're not FBI agents," Sam replies.

"I need a drink."

"I support that," Dean agrees, ignoring the looks from Sam and Addison.

Addison clears her throat and stands up. "Thanks for letting us know, and, uh, call us if anything else weird happens."

"If this is a spirit, it ain't your average spook tied to a house," Dean says as they walk out of Melanie's house. "I mean, this thing is boogying all over town."

"I'm not surprised," Sam says. "How many crystal balls do you figure are in Lily Dale?"

"Somewhere between fifty and, uh, all of them," Dean answers.

"Well, I mean, quartz can act as an antenna for spirits, right? That's why mediums started using crystal balls in the first place."

"That means that every storefront in town's got a ghost satellite dish."

"Exactly. And this place is packed with people summoning spirits."

"Yeah, but most of these guys can't even call a taxi."

"But all it takes is one," Addison reminds.

"That's gonna be like looking for a needle in a stack of fake needles, Ads."

"And there's the possibility that some of the psychics could be real psychics, which makes it more complicated."

"I hate this town. All right, so, what, start hitting up the Miss Cleos?"

"We should split up and canvass. It's faster," Sam says, then walks away.

"Right. Course you were," Dean mutters as he and Addison climb into the pos car.

"Give him some time. He'll come around," Addison says, rubbing her belly. Dean places a protective hand on her belly. "We should get some burritos before we start canvassing."

* * *

They only had to canvass for a couple of hours before a lead appeared. Melanie had called and her friend had apparently had a real vision. "It's okay. Like I said on the phone, he can help," Melanie says as her friend stares in disbelief at Dean and Addison.

"Phony lawman, huh," the friend says, letting them into her house.

"Yeah, because nobody can relate to phony around here," Dean comments and Addison shoots him an unamused look.

"Well, if you can do something, I don't care if you call yourself the pope."

"Can you tell us what exactly happened," Addison asks.

"What happened is I had a fucking vision. Something is coming for me."

"What's coming," Dean asks. "Did you get a look?"

"No. But I sure felt it when it started breaking my bones. I don't wanna die."

"Okay. We'll figure it out. Vision happened in here?"

"Yeah, by the cash box."

Dean walks over to the desk that the box was sitting on and looks around. He stares at a mask hanging on the wall. "There any chance good looking was watching?"

Melanie's friend takes them to her computer and brings up the security footage. They watch as the friend finishes up with a customer and puts the money in the cash box. Then the screen goes static. "What was that?"

Addison backs the video up frame by frame. The friend gasps upon seeing the ghost standing in the background. "What the hell," Melanie asks. They video plays in slow motion and they watch as the ghost walks up behind the friend. "Was that...I mean an actual..."

"Bona fide, yeah," Dean answers, staring at the screen where the ghost was holding the friend's head. "Well, no offense, but nobody's having psychic visions around here. This, uh, spirit, whoever she is, is giving them out."

"And then killing people," the friend asks.

"Until we stop her. Good news is you said you saw a clock, and it read 2 a.m. So that gives us a little time. Now, does anybody recognize this chick?"

"You know, I swear I've seen her," Melanie says. "Like in a painting or something."

"A painting? Uh..."

"No, not a painting. In one of those old photos in the museum."

* * *

"Lily Dale has long been a haven for the psychically gifted. Tortured elsewhere, they're embraced here. My own family has a modest natural gift. We also celebrate our long and colorful history of embellishers," a museum guide says, walking into the room the trio were in with a large tour group. The guide motions to a display box. "Ectoplasm illusion, circa 1890."

Sam shakes his head in disbelief and moves into the next room. Dean and Addison follow him up stairs, to where a wall of photos was hanging. The brothers exchange a look when they notice one of the photos was of the Mystifying Campbell brothers.

"Never ended well for the siblings."

"Why's that," Dean asks, turning to the tour guide.

"Hmm, the strain of working together. Or maybe just being around each other all their lives." The guide motions to the photo the brothers had been looking at. "Those two were the exception, actually, the Campbells, got along famously. Of course, that was just a stage name. They weren't actually brothers." Dean stares at the tour guide. "That was a cover for their, uh, alternative lifestyle. Any other questions I can answer?"

"Uh, yeah," Addison replies. She motions to a photo of two women. "Who are they?"

"Oh, the Fox sisters. Among the founders of Lily Dale. Kate Fox. Quite troubled apparently, but mesmerizing on stage. She's said to be able to levitate objects and foretell one's death."

"That's her," Dean mutters.

"Her older sister, Margaret, perhaps not a natural psychic."

"So full of crap."

"Yes, well. She didn't have her sister's charisma but she looked after Kate. Sometimes one's true gift is taking care of others."

"So what happened to them?"

"Lived here all their lives."

"Lived here and died here," Sam asks.

"Yes, well, buried in the cemetery."

"Great. That was, uh, very educational. Thank you. Dean. Ads."

Addison shoots the guide a smile, then follows after Sam. Dean starts to go with her, but the tour guide grabs his arm. "I'm sorry, I don't normally do this during business hours but do you know an Eleanor or an Ellen?" Dean stares. "She seems quite concerned about you. She wants to tell you, pardon me, if you don't tell someone how bad it really is, she'll kick your ass from beyond. You have to trust someone again eventually." The tour guide takes a step back. "Heh, anyway, don't forget to visit the gift shop."

Dean stands there for a moment, then goes after Sam and Addison. "All right, hit up the graveyard, dig up Kate," Sam suggests.

"Wait a second," Dean says.

"All signs point to her, Dean."

"No, just hold on a damn minute." Sam turns and looks at his older brother. "Enough with just the facts."

"We agreed-"

"No, we agreed to work the case, we didn't agree for you to be a dick the whole time."

"What?"

"You're pissed, okay? And you got a right."

"Damn straight."

"But enough's enough."

"Says who? Look, I'll work this damn case, but you lied to me and you killed my friend."

"No, I put down a monster who killed four people. And if you didn't know her you'd have done the same thing."

"I did know her, Dean."

"Which is why you couldn't do it. Look, I get it. There are certain people in this world, no matter how dangerous they are you just can't."

"Don't pull that card, that's bullshit. Look, if I've learned one thing it's that if something feels wrong, it probably is."

"Usually, yeah. But killing Amy was not wrong. You couldn't do it, so I did. That's what family does. The dirty work. And I would've told you. Eventually. Once I knew that this whole waving-a-gun-at-Satan thing was a one time show. I think it's reasonable to wanna know that you're off the fucking high dive, Sam. You almost got us both killed. You can be pissed all you want. But quit being a bitch."

Dean storms past his stunned brother. Addison pats Sam's arm, before going after her husband.

* * *

Addison groans as she sits down on the couch in the living room of Melanie's house. The boys had salted and burned Kate Fox's bones while she had hung out in the car. But apparently that didn't stop the ghost from killing Melanie's friend. "Should've known that whole good-sis/bad-sis story was just showmanship shit," Dean says. "Oh and turns out that Kate was just trying to warn people about her evil bitch sister. And we burned her bones. So that's gone."

"Dean," Sam starts.

"What," Dean snaps.

"All we can do now is go stop her."

"Not good enough. By a mile."

"I know. Believe me." Footsteps come down a set of stairs. "But can we talk about this later?"

"Hey," Dean greets as Melanie enter the living room. "How you holding up?"

"Been better," Melanie tearfully answers.

"Listen, if you need for us to leave-"

"I need you guys to leave."

"Okay, we will," Sam replies. "It's just that...Look, Margaret is still out there."

Melanie takes a deep breath and wipes her face. "What do you guys need to know?"

"Is there anything that stood out?"

"Well, um, she barely gave a crap about me. I mean, I was just in the way. She was all about getting Camille."

"Okay, good. That's something," Dean says.

"One other thing. Um, she enjoyed it. She was smiling."

* * *

"My back is killing me," Addison states from where she was stretched out on the ground while Dean dug up the grave of Margaret Fox.

"I feel naked doing this in daylight," Dean tells them as he digs.

"Let's just hurry up," Sam replies.

A couple hours later, the boys have the grave dug. Sam slams his shovel down on the coffin, breaking it open. "All right, Mags, my lighter's juiced this time." Sam pulls off the coffin's lid only to reveal that it's empty. "Geraldoed."

"Not good," Sam says, after the boys fill up the grave.

"Never good."

"Dean, if someone knew enough to take Margaret's bones, they're not kidding around. That's serious binding magic."

Dean scoffs. "Great. Psychic ghost bitch on a leash."

"We gotta find those bones."

"We gotta find the bonehead."

"So, what, we'll call Bobby, see what it takes to harness the power of a ghost?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Addison exclaims, as they reach the car. "I just remembered something." She pulls out a flyer and shows the boys. Pictures of three of the victims were on the flyer or the local festival. "They were all headliners."

* * *

Melanie looks up at the hunters. She held a copy of the flyer in her hands. "You know, after Nikolai they asked Camille to take his spot. I mean, she's so popular. Was so popular," she explains.

"Okay, uh, all these people, would you - would you say that they're the, uh, top dogs in town," Dean asks.

"Well, it's not really like that."

"But they were all doing well. I mean, your grandma?"

"She wrote a few books. And Imelda was on the Nate Berkus show twice. So, yeah, I guess they were doing pretty well. You think that's why she went after them?"

"Who would you think be next to be at the festival," Addison asks.

"I - I don't know."

"Your grandma was headlining at the big hall," Dean points out. "So who do you think they would ask to fill in?"

"Probably..." Melanie trails off in realization. "Me."

* * *

Addison jumps when she walks out of the bathroom and finds Dean waiting for her. He had been more protective ever since the leviathans had managed to kidnap her. And while she found it endearing, there were times that she found it a bit much. He hands her a shotgun. "Stay in the salt circle. There's no telling what this crazy bitch will do," he tells her.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to wait in the car," she asks, as they make their way into the living room.

"No. You're staying where I can see you so you know that I'm me and I know that you're you. Don't worry about Melanie. I'll cover her. You just worry about you." Dean's phone rings and he pulls it out to see Sam's name on the screen. "Yeah?"

"Dean. It's the pawn shop guy," Sam tells him.

"How do you know?"

"He goose chased me to a - a fucking pregnant yoga class."

"All right, well, figure out where he put her bones."

Melanie gasps and the hunters to see Margaret right outside the window. "I will," Sam replies.

"Fast, Sam."

Dean snaps his phone shut and shoves it in his pocket. Addison tightens her grip on the shotgun and looks around the room. "Is she gone," Melanie asks, seeing that the ghost was no longer in the window.

"I doubt it."

"But she can't get past the line, right?"

"Right."

Suddenly, the windows explode. Dean does his best to cover both Addison and Melanie. The stand up and Addison nods. The wind blows, breaking salt circle.

"Damn it. I hate when they do that," Dean mutters. He turns to Melanie. "Get the salt, go."

Melanie moves to grab the salt can as the ghost appears behind Dean. "Dean," Addison snaps and he ducks just before she shoots Margaret.

"Is she gone," Melanie asks. Margaret reappears and sends Dean and Addison back into a wall. Melanie raises a tire iron and backs up as Margaret stalks towards her.

Dean jumps up and runs into the kitchen. He shoots Margaret and she vanishes. "Ads," he shouts.

"I'm good," Addison answers, moving into the kitchen from the hallway. Melanie grabs a box of salt and quickly pours a line in the doorways.

Margaret appears in front of Dean. "Get behind me," he orders. He glares at the ghost in front of him. "That's as far as you go bitch."

The house starts shaking and the floor boards break. "Aw," Margaret mocks. "Sorry, handsome."

Addison raises her shotgun and shoots Margaret. Addison grabs Melanie and moves her towards the back of the kitchen. Margaret reappears and Dean shoots her this time. Margaret appears once again and Dean goes to shoot her only to find that he's out of shells. He grabs an iron chain off the table and swings it through the ghost. He glances back at the women, then he's flying out of the kitchen. Margaret walks towards them and Addison tries shooting the ghost, but realizes that her gun is empty. She looks up and Margaret is right in front of them. Addison tosses her shotgun down and grabs the tire iron from Melanie. She swings it through the ghost. Margaret is front of them once more. Addison raises the tire iron. She frowns as the ghost backs up before going up in flames.

Addison lets out a relived. She looks at Dean, who was lying in the hallway. "Next time, I'm staying in the car."

* * *

Dean rolls over, expecting to find Addison curled up next to him, but her spot was empty. He sits up and looks over at Sam's bed. His younger brother was stretched out on the bed. They had left Lily Dale that morning. He and Sam had been able to patch things up as best they could. He looks towards the bathroom and finds it dark. "Son of a bitch," he mutters, pulling on his boots and jacket.

Dean opens the motel door and finds Addison sitting on the ground. She glances at him. "I needed some fresh air," she tells him.

He sits down next to her. "You should've told me. I thought something had happened."

"Well, I wasn't going to wake you when it looked like you finally gettin some sleep." She rubs her lower back and rolls her eyes when she notices the worried look on his face. "I'm fine. It's just the normal aches that come with carrying a tiny person. So, you gonna tell me what's bothering you."

He rubs his face. "I'm not putting my crap on you, Ads. You got enough to deal with."

Addison grabs his hand and squeezes. "For better or for worse, Dean. I can handle whatever you throw at me. So, lay it on me."

"You're a pain in the ass, Addison."

"And you love me for it."

"Yeah, I do."


	8. Season Seven, Time for a Wedding

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I do own the original characters.

Chapter 08 - Season Seven, Time for a Wedding

Addison grins as the coins hit the metal bottom of the slot machine. It was time for their annual trip to Vegas, except instead of clubbing and going to bars like she usually did, she hit up the slot machines. Dean had taken to the strip clubs like he always did and Sam...well, Sam decided to go on a 'soul searching' hike in the desert. Feeling the baby kick, she rubs her belly. "Don't worry, five percent of this will be going to your college fund."

Her phone buzzes and Addison finds a text from Sam. '348 Twain Ave. Wear Fed Suit!'

"And our vacation is over, muchkin."

After changing and a quick stop to pick up a bag of pickle flavored potato chips, Addison finds herself at the location. The lobby of the building was empty, causing her to make her way down a hallway. "Ads!" She stops and turns to see Dean walking towards her. "What are you doing here?"

"Sam sent me a text," Addison explains. "He asked me to meet him here. Think there might be a case?"

Dean shrugs. "No idea," he replies. The light above them flickers causing Dean to pull out his gun. They continue down the hallway.

Dean's about to open the doors at the end when they suddenly open to reveal Sam. He was in a suit with a pink flower pinned to his jacket. "Dean. Addison," Sam greets. "It's okay. You won't need that. Come on."

Dean puts his gun up as Sam leads him and Addison into the room. Chairs were sit up in rows on either sides with a man and woman sitting near an old piano at the front of the room. "I thought you were out, uh, becoming one with the land or some crap."

"You got to - come here." Addison watches as Sam moves Dean onto a piece of tape on the floor. She looks around the room. Fake flowers were around the room. "All right. Now..." She turns back to see Sam pin a pink flower to Dean's jacket.

"What is this?"

"Uh, apparently, uh, pink is for loyalty."

"Sam, are we looking for a siren or something," Addison asks, confused. She looks to Dean for answers, but he shrugs.

"No. Nothing like that." Sam moves Addison to stand next Dean and he hands her a small bouquet of pink flowers. "All right, um...so, a little sudden. But life is short, so I'll keep this shorter." Sam places a hand on each of their shoulders. "I'm in love. And I'm getting married." Sam's confession is greeted by to blank stares. "Say something, like, uh, like 'congratulations' for example."

"What," Dean finally says.

The bridal march starts to play and they turn to see a woman in a wedding dress and veil enter the room. She stops in front of them and Sam lifts the veil. "Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me," Addison mutters.

Becky Rosen grins at them. "Dean, Addison. I'm so glad you're here."

After the ceremony, which Dean and Addison remained silent through, mostly out of shock, the four of them are standing in the chapel. Addison turns to Dean, who turns to Sam. "Shouldn't she ask for my permission or something," Dean states.

"You want her to ask for my hand," Sam amusedly replies.

"I think the more appropriate question is how did this happen," Addison counters.

"Short version? We - we - we met. We ate and - and talked and fell in love. And, you know, here we are."

"You fell in love with Becky in four days," Addison disbelievingly asks, glancing at Becky.

"Yeah, I, uh, I guess we're all caught up. That's - okay." Dean shakes his head. "You know what? Ignoring everything, have you forgotten the average life-span of your hookups? And Ads doesn't count."

"Yeah, but -" Sam starts.

"But if anyone knows that, it's me. I mean, I read every book. So, open eyes, you know? Open eyes," Becky says.

"I'm gonna be sick," Dean murmurs.

"You and me both," Addison agrees, rubbing her belly.

"Guys, look, it's simple. If - if something good's happening, I-I got to jump on it - now, today, uh, period," Sam explains.

"Okay, _Dead Poets Society._ Fine," Dean replies. "No offense. Did you make sure she's even really -"

"Salt, holy water, everything. See?" Becky holds up her right arm to show them a small cut. "Not a monster. Just the right girl for your brother." Addison tensely smiles at her. "That's it."

A man carrying a folder walks up to them. "The bill."

Becky grabs the folder. "I got it. You three do your thing."

Dean waits until Becky and the man have gone before rounding on Sam. "Really?! Superfan ninety-nine?!"

"Dean, look," Sam begins. "Honest to God, I-I had the exact same opinion of her as you do. But when we got past the whole book thing, I found out that she's great and I was the dick."

Addison nods. "Okay, while we're on the subject of the books, Becky randomly decides to pop up during our annual Vegas week?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Okay, um, Ads, what are you trying to say?"

"Maybe she knew about our Vegas vacation week because Chuck wrote about it."

"Addison, you're paranoid."

"And you're in love," Dean exclaims. "It's been four days, man!"

"You know what? Um, how about this? Becky and I are gonna go up to her place in Delaware. Um, why don't you try and wrap your domes around this, get a little supportive, then give us a call?" Sam pats their shoulders, then walks over to Becky.

Addison looks at Dean. "You better fix this," she begins. "Because I do not want that woman as our son's aunt."

* * *

Dean glances at Addison as they walk down the hallway to Becky's apartment. They had followed the newlyweds all the way from Vegas and had stumbled onto a possible hunt in Pine Creek. They reach the apartment and Addison rings the doorbell. She hated this whole thing, but she was willing to put on the happy face for Sam. The door opens and she smiles at Sam. Dean hands Sam a big box with a red bow on it. "This is us being supportive. Congratulations to you and the misuses," Dean tells him.

"Thanks," Sam replies.

"It's a waffle iron," Dean awkwardly explains. "Nonstick. You just, uh...Actually, I don't know how to use it. Are we good?" Sam shrugs and motions for them enter the apartment. "Good, cause we're sniffing a case in this town. The score is...guy wins Powerball, gets squished by a truck."

"Then another guy goes from the bench to the Majors, but his face ends up a catcher's mitt a week later," Addison continues.

"Our first thought was crossroads demons, but there's that ten year time frame on collecting souls," Becky says from another room. Addison and Dean exchange a look, then follow Sam into the bedroom. Becky was standing in front of board filled with research. "Then there's cursed object, like in 'Bad Day at Black Rock,' but we haven't been able to connect the vics yet."

Dean looks between Sam and Becky. "You're working this case...together?"

"Yeah. I know. Right," Sam answers. "I mean, I guess all those Chuck Shurley books paid off."

"All right, listen, Cookie, I don't know what kind of mojo you're working but, believe me, I will find out," Dean coldly tells Becky.

"Dean, that's my wife you're talking to."

"You're not even acting like yourself, Sam!"

"How am I not?"

"You married Becky Rosen!"

"What are you saying," Becky questions. "I'm a witch? Or maybe I'm a siren. Ever occur to you we're just - I don't know - happy?"

"Come on, Sam," Dean shouts. "Guy wins the lotto, guy hits the bigs. All right, obviously, uh, people's dreams are coming true in this town. Don't you think this is a little bit of a coincidence?"

"You know what, Dean," Sam begins. "What Becky and I have is real. And if you can't accept that, that's your problem, not ours."

"Or maybe she's part of it. Because for whatever reason, you're her dream. If you really do care about her I'd be worried. Because people who do get their little fantasies or whatever seem to end up dead pretty quick."

"You know, I went after her, Dean. Maybe that's what's bugging you two - that I'm moving on with my life. I mean, you took care of me and that's great. But I don't need you, either of you, anymore."

Addison sighs as Dean walks out of the apartment. "We just...we just want to make sure that you're okay," she softly tells him, blinking back the tears. "And that this is something that you really want-"

"Ads, really," Sam interrupts, with a knowing look.

Addison rolls her eyes. "Fine. The tears may have been faked but I meant what I said."

"I know you gave Becky pictures of me when we were at the Supernatural Convention, Ads."

Addison stares at Becky betrayed, then she narrows her gaze. "Just because I'm eight weeks away from pushing a tiny person out of my body doesn't mean I won't kick your ass," she threatens. "And for the record, Sam, you had pants on in those pictures."

She turn and walks out of the apartment. Dean was already sitting in the old Mustang he had stolen a few weeks earlier. "Well," Dean asks.

"He knew I was faking. And we're officially both bad cops," Addison tells him. Dean runs a hand over his face and starts the car.

* * *

"I feel like we're going on a blind date," Addison complains as they walk through the restaurant to meet the hunter Bobby had sent to help them. Dean shoots her an unamused look. "What? You're the one who wanted help. I think we can do this one on our own. You do all the ass kicking, while I sit in the car."

Dean stops and turns to her. "Ads-"

"I know, Dean, okay. The sooner we finish this job, the sooner we can make Sam realize the mistake he made. Let's just get this over with."

They continue through the restaurant. Dean starts towards a table where a bald bearded man was sitting, but stops when a woman sits down.

"Hey. You Dean and Addison?" They turn around to see a bearded man sitting at a table. He was drinking a milkshake. He wore a plaid shirt under a blue hoodie. "I thought you'd be taller.

Dean shoots Addison a look and she shrugs in response. He clears his throat as they sit down across from him. "I assume Bobby filled you in on the road."

"He told me three things. One, he's tangling with a major league nest up in Oregon territory. Numero dos, he said you'd be all, uh, surly and premenstrual working with me. And three..." He trails off as he sets a pastel blue bag on the table. "Congratulations."

Addison grins and grabs the bag. "Aw," she says, pulling out a pastel blue onesie with teddy bears on it. She holds it up in front of Dean. "Isn't it cute?"

"Yeah, it's fucking adorable, Ads," Dean snaps, shooting her an unamused look.

Addison rolls her eyes and turns to the man. "Ignore him. He gets really grumpy during his time of the month, Garth. Thank you for the present."

Dean sends Addison another unamused look as he unfolds the newspaper. He sets it on the table and slide it forward. "I think I found a case. Check the headline."

"First things first," Garth says, picking up the paper. He flips through until he finds a page and reads it. Dean looks at Addison with disbelief when Garth laughs and she shrugs in response. "Oh, Marmaduke, you crazy."

* * *

"Are you trying to humiliate me," a woman coldly says to a secretary as Dean, Addison, and Garth sitting outside the CEO's office for Mutual Freedom Insurance. "It's Marsha with an S-H-A, not a C-I-A."

Dean and Addison exchange a look when Sam and Becky walk out of the CEO's office. Garth leans close to Dean. "Hey, is that your-

"Yes," Dean interrupts.

"Awkward."

Dean stands up and walks over to Sam. "Hi." Becky glares at him, then walks away "Okay. So?"

"So, uh, no point going in, guy's clean," Sam answers.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Positive. Becky grilled him like a pro. She's a real natural." Dean nods. "What's with the scrawny guy?"

Dean glances at Garth. "Temp." Sam nods and goes after Becky.

The secretary clears her throat. "You can go in now."

The hunters make their way into the CEO's office. They shake hands with the man then Addison and Garth sit down in the leather chairs in front of the desk. "Throw a rock, hit a reporter these day, eh?"

Dean chuckles. He was standing behind Addison. "Well, your story's a big deal over at the _Actuarial Insider_."

"Go ahead, shoot."

"What was the process you went through to get the position," Addison asks.

"Board came to me, asked, said yes."

Dean frowns. "Just out of the blue?"

"Pretty much."

"Huh. And any idea how the board landed on you over your supervisors?"

"Um, they didn't say."

Addison shifts. "What exactly about your qualifications made the board excited to put you in the CEO position?"

"Say, what's with the third degree," the CEO asks, looking between the three of them.

"Oh, uh, no offense. We were just wondering if you got here by nefarious means," Garth says.

"Whoa, Garth," Dean says, looking at the hunter.

"Oh. Heh, uh...I - I didn't mean, of course, uh, corporate backstabbing. I'm sorry. I meant more like, uh, you know, black magic or hoodoo."

Dean laughs and places a hand on Garth's shoulder. "He jokes. He's, uh, a jokester. Let's, uh, rewind. Why don't, uh, you tell us what it felt like when your big dream came true?"

The CEO pauses. "Look, on the record, it's great."

Addison raises an eyebrow. "And off the record?"

"It's not my big dream."

"Wait, you didn't want this job," Garth questions.

"Hell, no. I'm a sales guy. I was good in sales."

"Your secretary's an idiot. I'll be at the printers this afternoon," the woman who had been yelling at the secretary says.

"All right, dear. See you at dinner."

"Just have the idiot make a reservation. Here's a tip: remind her she works or the CEO. One more screwup, she's fired."

They watch as the woman walks out of the office. "Your, uh, wife seems pretty stoked on the promotion, don't she," Garth says.

"Honestly, I've never seen her happier. I have no idea how I'm gonna tell her I have to resign. The news is just gonna-"

"Kill her," Garth interrupts. Dean and Addison exchange a look.

Addison clears her throat. "Well, thank you, Mr. Burrows."

The hunters make their way out of his way. They quickly catch up with Mrs. Burrows. "Mrs. Burrows," Dean says.

Mrs. Burrows looks at them with distain. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. We're, uh, doing a story on your husband's promotion. We wanted to ask you a few questions."

Mrs. Burrows smiles. "I'm sorry. I can't today. If you schedule it with his girl-"

Mrs. Burrows starts to leave, but Dean grabs her arm. "I'm trying to save you from a really bad accident."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. No, I'm pointing out a pattern. Why do people keep thinking I'm threatening them?"

"Because it sounded exactly like a threat, dude," Garth comments.

Dean stares at him for a second, then turns back to Mrs. Burrows. "Look, for you own good, what did you do to get him promoted?"

Mrs. Burrows scoffs. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Now leave me alone or do I need to call security?"

Addison watches as Mrs. Burrows walks off. "Okay, plan B."

They follow Mrs. Burrows through the building, but hang back upon reaching the lobby. Hearing a snapping noise, Dean looks up to see a heavy light falling towards the ground. He runs and tackles Mrs. Burrows just seconds before the light hits the ground and shatters. "You okay," Dean asks.

"How did you know," Mrs. Burrows asks in disbelief.

"Because you're not the first. Come on."

Dean helps Mrs. Burrows up as Addison and Garth walk over. "You wanna tell us what's up here," Garth asks.

"I was having lunch with friends, this guy heard me bitching, next thing I know he's making me an offer."

"An offer," Addison asks.

"Craig's job for my soul. I know, hilarious. I mean, what have I got to lose?"

"Well, there's your soul," Garth replies. He looks at Dean and Addison. "What kind of demon deal is this? Time line's whack."

Mrs. Burrows stares at Garth. "What are you talking about? Demon?"

"Let me back up here. You made a deal with a demon in exchange for your everlasting. Except those are ten year contracts. Why is the bill coming due so fast?"

"I don't know, but I got a bad feeling about who's next. We gotta find Sam," Dean says.

"All right, all right. Here's the plan. I drop this lady at my cousin's. He'll stop anything trying to get her. We, uh, find Sam, hopefully fix this, everybody's home in time for _America's Got Talent._ Now, you. You'll be living with a triracial paraplegic sniper until this all blows over, okay?"

* * *

"I like Garth," Addison says, shoving her reporters suit in her duffle bag. Her and Dean had stopped at their motel to change and to eat the takeout they had picked up.

"You're only saying that because he gave you stuff," Dean replies, not looking up from Addison's Macbook.

"You're damn right I am. We have eight weeks until my due date and we're nowhere near being prepared for Munchkin."

"Ads, we're doing the best we can."

"You know they won't let you leave the hospital unless the car seat is installed perfectly in the car. Which, by the way, we don't have."

"Ads-"

"We don't have any clothes or diapers or anything else. And where's he gonna sleep? Not every shit motel we stay in has cribs to rent. And he can't sleep with us or with Sam. I don't even if they make cribs that we can fold up and throw in the trunk."

"Ads-"

"And we definitely need a stroller. Because I can't carry him around all the time. And I - I haven't even decided if I want to breastfed or use formula."

"Addison!" She blinks and finds Dean standing right in front. "Look, when we finish this case, we'll go to - to babies r us or whatever and get everything we need."

Addison sighs and sits down on the bed. "You can't tell me that you're not freaking out over this."

"I'm not freaking out." She shoots him a disbelieving look. "I'm not. Yeah, the timing sucks, but everything's gonna be fine. Munchkin is gonna be fine. And you know how I know? Because you're his mom. He's gonna have a normal life and go to some overpriced college. And you know what else? I think I'm gonna be a pretty damn good dad. Sam's gonna be the buzzkill uncle and Bobby's already the grumpy grandpa. Everything's gonna be fine, Ads."

Addison nods, wiping away a few stray tears. "He's going to Yale, okay." She takes a deep breath and pushes herself up. "We should go find Sam and his future ex-wife."

"Oh, and, uh, you should definitely breastfed." She looks at him and Dean grins back. Addison shakes her head and walks out of the motel room with him right behind her.

* * *

Dean slowly opens the door to Becky's apartment. They had met up with Garth, after he had dropped off Mrs. Burrows with his cousin. Garth pushes past Dean and blazes into the apartment. Dean shoots Addison an incredulous and she can't help but shrug in response. He puts his gun as he and Addison enter the apartment while Garth continues looking around. He stares at the wedding picture of Becky and Sam. "I feel slightly creeped out by that," Addison comments, staring at the photo.

"You and me both," Dean mutters, looking through a stack of mail. He throws the letters back on the table. "Anything?"

"Uh, she's got eleven twitter-ers," Garth replies as Dean and Addison join him in Becky's bedroom. Her computer was on. "Last post. Uh, 'going on romantic trip with hubster.' Three exclamation points. Guess she got excited."

Addison grabs a picture off the desk. It was a picture a young Becky standing in front of a cabin. "Isn't this a nice romantic cabin?"

"Oh, hell, no. But I got this thing about fish. Dead Eyes."

Dean grabs the picture from Addison and takes it out of the frame. A location was written on the back.

* * *

Addison walks over to where Guy was trapped in the devil's trap. She holds up blue bottle of vodka. "Blueberry vodka, responsible for helping populate the planet," she greets, smirking. Sam had called Dean earlier that day and they had picked him up, along with Becky, who had told them everything.

"You see that, Sam," Becky excitedly says. "I did it just like we said! I am awesome! I..." She trails off at the glare from Sam and moves away from the hunters. "I'll be over here."

"Dean Winchester. This is really thrilling. Hey, can I have your autograph," Guy sarcastically asks.

Dean pulls out the demon killing knife. "Sure. Yeah, I'll, uh, carve it into your spleen. So, how you running your little scam?"

"Well, how do you mean, Dean?"

"Signing ten year deals, snuffing 'em that week," Sam tells Guy.

"Well, I would never. No. Rules of the road - can't lay a hair on any of my clients."

"Bullshit," Addison says, crossing her arms over her chest. Dean tightens his grip on the knife. "How are you cheating?"

"I'm not a cheater. I'm an innovator. It's called a loophole, you moron. Yes, when a person bargains away his soul, he gets a decade, technically. But accidents happen."

Sam scoffs. "So, you're arranging accidents and collecting early?"

"Oh, please. White gloves. I don't get my hands dirty. That's why it's important to have a capable intern." Another demon appears in the room, sending Dean, Sam, and Garth flying into walls. Addison steps towards where the knife had landed. Guy turns to his demon intern. "What time did I ask you be here!" The demon breaks the devil's trap. Addison feels something pressing down on her throat and gasps for air. A hand wraps around her arm and she looks to see Guy. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Holy water hits Guy and causes him to hisses before turning. "Exorcizamus te omnis-" Guy waves his hand and Dean slams back into the wall.

"Becky," Sam shouts, seeing the demon intern heading towards him. "Run!" The demon waves his head and Sam gasps for air. It suddenly stops and the demon flashes orange, then falls to the ground to show a knife sticking out of his back.

Sam quickly grabs the knife and tosses it to Dean as he moves behind Addison. He presses the knife against Guy's neck. "Let her go," Dean angrily says. Guy lets go of Addison and she quickly steps to the side. "How many deals you got cooking in this town, Madoff?"

"Fifteen," Guy confesses.

"Yeah, well, call them off or I'll cut my own loophole in your throat."

Guy's gaze widens. "Oh, crap."

"Yeah, you said it. You're in a world-"

"Hello, boys, love."

Dean and Addison both turn to see Crowley standing behind them. "Oh, crap." Dean keeps the knife on Guy's throat as he moves behind the demon.

"Sam, mazel tov," Crowley greets as Sam stands protectively behind Addison. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"You're Crowley," Becky excitedly says, reminding them she was there.

"And you're - well, I'm sure you have a wonderful personality, dear," Crowley says, stepping forward.

"Ah, another step and I'll Colombian necktie your little friend here," Dean coldly says.

"Please, don't let him get off that easy."

Guy fearfully stares at his boss. "Sir, I don't think that you-"

"I know exactly what you've been doing. A little birdie named Jackson sold you out, e-mailed all the juicy deets to my suggestion box." Crowley looks at the dead demon. "I assume that's my whistle-blower? Shame. Had a future. Unfortunately, you don't."

"I was just-"

"I only have one rule - make a deal, keep it."

"Well, technically, I didn't-"

"There's a reason we don't call our chits in early - consumer confidence. This isn't Wall Street! This is Hell! We have a little something called integrity. This gets out, who'll deal with us? Nobody! Then where are we?"

"I don't know."

"That's right. You don't. Because you're a stupid, shortsighted little prat. Now, hand the jackass over. I'll cancel every deal he's made."

Dean cautiously stares at Crowley. "What are you gonna do with him?"

"Make an example of him. Fair trade, right? We all go our separate ways. No harm done."

"What," Sam disbelievingly asks. "Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Years of demons nipping at your heels, haven't seen one for months. Wonder why?"

"We've been a little busy," Dean answers.

"Hunting Leviathan - yes, I know. That's why I told my lads to stay clear of you meatheads."

Addison frowns. "What do you know about the Leviathans?"

"Too much. You met that Dick yet? Smuggest tub of goo since Mussolini. I hate the bastards. Squash 'em all, please. I'll stay clear."

"Rip up the contracts first," Dean demands.

Crowley snaps his fingers. "Done...and done. Your turn." Dean glances at Addison and Sam, then shoves Guy forward. Crowley grabs him. "Pleasure, gentlemen, ladies."

Then the demons are gone. A groan causes the group to turn to see Garth standing up. "What'd I miss," he asks, looking around.

* * *

Sam signs his name on the annulment papers and slides them across the table to Becky. Dean, Addison, and Garth were standing in the living room. "It - it wasn't all bad, right," Becky asks and Sam glares at her.

A heartbroken look crosses the woman's face. "Okay, you did save my life and for that, thanks," Sam tells her.

"So I'll see you again?"

"Yeah, probably not." Becky signs the papers, then pushes them back to Sam. He sighs. "Becky, look, you're not a loser, okay? You're a good person and you - you've got a lot of...energy. So you know what? Just do your thing, whatever that is, and the right guy will find you."

Addison exchanges a look with Dean when Garth smiles at Becky and he starts to flatten his hair. Garth turns to them. "No," the married hunters says.

Sam nods at Becky and the hunters walk out of her apartment. "Well, buddy, I gotta say, man, you, uh, don't suck," Dean tells Garth as they walk out of the apartment building.

"Thank you," Garth replies. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Well..."

Garth rushes forward and hugs Dean. "Yeah. Heh. All right, that's..." Dean awkwardly pats his back. "Thank you."

Garth pulls back and then hugs Addison. She smiles. "Take care," she says, with a smile.

With a final wave, Garth climbs into his car and drives off. "Aw, you made a friend," Sam amusedly says.

Dean shakes his head. "Uh uh."

"Look, man, uh, when I was all dosed up, I said some shit."

"Oh, you mean, she - she wasn't your soul mate?"

"Shut up. I mean, I do need you guys watching my back. Obviously."

"Yeah. When crazy groupie attack."

"You know what I mean."

"You know, I gotta say, man, for a whack job, you really pulled it together."

"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me." Addison snorts in amusement and the boys laugh. "Look, don't be too impressed, man. I'm still a Denver scramble up here. I just know my way around the plate now."

"I'm just saying, it's stupid to think that you need me around all the time. You're a grown up."

"Right."

"You're a hike-in-the-desert, hippie douche grownup."

"Dude, I was camping. You camp."

"Yeah, whatever, hippie."

"You know what, through? Seriously? It might be nice."

"What?"

"I mean, you've basically been looking out for me your whole life. Now you finally get to take care of yourself. Well, before the baby comes anyway."

Addison clears her throat. "Speaking of Munchkin, there is actually a store called Babies R Us and it's like five minutes away. So, let's go."

"What? Now," Dean asks. Sam chuckles and climbs into the car.

Addison rolls her eyes as she opens the door of the old Mustang. "Yes, now. And I get veto power." Dean runs a hand over his over face before climbing into the car.


	9. How to Win Friends and Influence Monster

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Chapter 09 - How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters

Addison was miserable and it showed as she followed Bobby into the abandoned house. She drops her bag and pillows on the couch. She spreads a sleeping bag and blankets out, then sits down. "Well, isn't this cozy," Dean comments.

"Yeah. Well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore," Sam replies, sitting down at the table.

"Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's Bible on this. Everybody's out to get you - paranoia is just plain common sense," Bobby tells him.

"Its been weeks," Addison tiredly says. "I'm tired of squatting and the cold showers and cold food. This sucks."

Bobby sighs. "How many big mouths are out there, running card traces, like Chet or hunting us down God knows what ways? No, now's not the time to be laying our bed rolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it."

Suddenly, the lights go off. Sam turns on the lamp that he had set on the table. "That's just great," Dean complains. "This is stupid. I mean, our quality of life is crap. We got Purgatory's least wanted everywhere and we're on our third The World's Screwed issue in, what, four years? We've steered the bus away from the cliff twice already."

"Someone's got to do it," Sam points out.

"What if the bus wants to go over the cliff?"

"You think the world wants to end?"

Dean shrugs. "I think that if we didn't take its belt and all its pens away each year that, yeah, the whole enchilada would've offed itself already."

"Stop trying to wrestle with the big picture, son," Bobby tells him. Dean grabs a beer out of the cooler and sits down next to Addison, who automatically lays her head on his shoulder. "You're gonna hurt your head. So, what's the gruff?"

"Well, uh, there've been a rash of sightings all over the southern pine barrens - a strange, fast moving, human like creature. Locals even have a name for it," Sam explains, handing Bobby some of the research he had done.

"The Jersey Devil? I thought that was just local tall tale crap."

"Sightings in the area go back two hundred years," Addison says. "Accounts have it with wings, horns, a tail."

"Of course, the sketch looks more like a Chewbacca head," Dean counters. Addison smacks his chest.

"Sounds kind of mixed up," Bobby states.

"Yeah, kind of like it should be fighting a Japanese robot."

"Well, mixed up or not, it sounds like it might just have a body count," Sam says, handing Bobby a newspaper article.

"'Camping high season harshed by human burrito,'" Bobby disbelievingly reads.

"Yeah. Something hung a camper up in a tree, then ate him alive right through his sleeping bag. His wife hasn't been seen either. Plus, there have been four other missing persons reported in the last three weeks. State troopers - get this - are saying it's a rogue bear."

Dean scoffs. "Of course, when was the last time you saw a bear string up its own pinata?"

"Something's out there in the woods," Bobby argues. "Hey, we're going honest to goodness wilderness hunting. I haven't used my .30-30 in a while."

"Okay, Davy Crockett, well, safari's gonna have to wait till tomorrow and after our suit and tie dance. We'll make sure this is not just some backwoods crackhead who likes to roll glampers."

A confused look crosses Bobby's face. "What the hell's a glamper?"

"Ads."

"High end camper," Addison explains. "TV, AC, wi-fi, fridge. Back to nature with none of the inconvenience."

"That's idiotic."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "Some people just don't know how to live."

Addison shrugs. "I'd rather be a glamper right now."

* * *

Upon entering the Biggerson's restaurant with Bobby, Addison's gaze goes straight to the sign advertising the newest sandwich. Her and Bobby had paid a visit to the local coroner's office while the boys had talked to the park rangers. "So?" She blinks and sees that Dean and Sam had joined them.

"Well, we took a look at the cadaver," Bobby begins.

"What was left of it anyway," Addison comments.

"Don't have any stats on a Jersey Devil, but the bite radius on the vic's wounds - it's too small for a Leviathan. And he's still got a ventricle and some change, so I doubt we're talking werewolf. And a wendigo don't leave no scraps."

Dean nods. "Hmm. Lunch?"

"Yes," Addison blurts out causing the three men to stare at her. "Shut up!"

Dean shrugs and waves at a passing waiter. "Hey! Uh, Brandon. Can we grab a booth?"

Brandon glares at him. "Hey, uh, douchewad, a hostess will seat you. Do I look like a freaking hostess?"

"Do you want to look like a hostess?"

Brandon shoots Dean another glare before leaving. "That didn't really make sense, what you...said," Sam awkwardly points out.

"What was that?"

"I sure hope we don't get Brandon's section," Bobby says.

After getting a booth and ordering, Brandon brings them their food, with a clearly unhappy look on his face. "Sidewinder soup and salad combo goes to Big Bird," Brandon says, setting a plate down in front of Sam. "TDK slammers for Ken Doll and Preggo. And a little heart-smart for creepy uncle."

"What is your problem," Dean demands.

"You are my problem," Brandon snaps and walks away.

"Oh, Brandon's got his flare all up in a bunch," Bobby says.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "There goes his eighteen percent."

"At least he didn't call me fat," Addison mutters, then takes a bite of her sandwich.

"Anyway," Dean says. "Chief ranger - I don't think he believes in the Jersey Devil."

"Oh, by the way, did he seem a little, uh, stoned to you," Sam questions.

"Ranger Rick? Yeah. Definitely growing his own on the back forty and smoking all the profits."

"He did seem to think that there was something-"

"This is like the world's best sandwich," Addison says, staring her sandwich in amazement.

"What the hell did you get," Bobby questions.

Addison picks up the flyer on the table. "The new pepperjack turducken slammer. Limited time only."

"Bunch of birds shoved up inside each other. Shouldn't play God like that."

Addison rolls her eyes. "I'm pregnant. I get to eat whatever I want without judgement."

"Damn, this is a good sandwich," Dean says. Sam stares as his brother takes a bite of his own sandwich. "Hey, don't look at me sideways from that - that Chinese chicken geezer salad there, okay? This is awesome. Like the perfect storm of your top three edible birds."

"All right, anyways, um..." Sam trails off watching them take another bite. "The ranger did seem to think there was something out in Wharton Forest."

"Well, then I'd say it's safari time," Bobby says. Yelling from the back of the restaurant causes them to look and see Brandon arguing with a manager.

They watch as Brandon storms out of the restaurant. Addison shrugs and turns her attention back to the sandwich. "Well, anyway, back to bigger and better things," Dean says, then takes a bite of his sandwich.

* * *

Addison lets out an annoyed sigh as follows the guys through the woods. She had wanted to stay in the house, but they all insisted that she join them, saying that it was safer with them than alone. They stop and watch as Bobby picks up a tuft of fur. "Couple of bucks. Head butting over turf probably," he tells them. "Pretty sure the other fella won."

"I guess I forgot. Before you were a hunter, you were actually a...hunter," Sam says.

"Yeah, well, we shot our dinner when I was kid."

"You used to take us hunting. Remember? Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you. Shoot, you must have taught us most of the outdoor tracking we know," Dean reminisces.

"Yeah, what I could get to stick. I never could get you little grubs to pull a trigger on a single deer."

"You're talking about Bambi, man."

"You don't shoot Bambi, jackass. You shoot Bambi's mother."

"I have to pee," Addison suddenly says.

Dean glances at her. "Again?"

"I can't help it. Your son decided to use my bladder as pillow and right now he can't get comfortable."

Dean shakes his head and turns back around. He stops, seeing a bloodied arm hanging out of a tree. "Well, looks like we found Phil."

"That's nice and all, but I still have to pee."

* * *

A car pulling up causes the group to turn. Night had fallen as they waited for a park ranger to show up. "Special Agents," the ranger greets, climbing out of the Jeep. "Listen, I got your call. But I'm not sure I got what you were saying." Dean points above them and the ranger looks up. "Hey. I think we found Phil."

"That's what I said," Dean replies.

"Uh, I should probably call this in."

"Yeah, yeah. Solid move, Rick," Sam agrees.

The ranger moves back over to his Jeep. Addison frowns, hearing the bushes move. "Did you hear that," she asks, looking around.

Dean protectively moves in front of her as Bobby and Sam crowd around her. "Ranger, I think we've got company," Bobby calls out.

"Yeah? Who's that," the ranger asks. Suddenly, something comes out of the bushes and drags the ranger into the trees.

"Ranger," Sam shouts. They take off in the direction that the ranger had been dragged. "Ranger Evans! Ranger!"

Rustling comes from above them. "It's got him up in the trees. Lights off," Bobby orders, turning the light off on his rifle.

"What," Dean ask, confused. He turns the light off on his rifle.

"Wait, Bobby, you think that's really a good idea," Sam questions.

"Shut up, shut off, and listen," Bobby tells him. Sam turns off the light. "Damn thing's eating Rick."

"Man, I liked Rick," Dean comments.

Bobby aims his rifle towards the trees. He closes his eyes and fires. A creature falls out and lands on the ground. "Awesome shot, Bobby," Addison says.

"Seriously," Sam says.

Bobby shrugs. "We all got our gifts."

"What about the rest of Ranger Rick," Dean asks, looking up at the trees.

"Ranger called in his 10-20. His own will find him," Bobby replies, shouldering his rifle. "We got crap to do."

* * *

Addison and Bobby follow the guys into the abandoned house. She stands back as they place the creature on the table. To her, it looked like just a regular guy, except he was pale, his eyes were clouded, and blood covered his face. "Built like a supermodel, but the thing was strong. That's for damn sure. Carried a full grown man up a tree in nothing flat," Bobby says as the guys crowd around the table.

"But it only took one bullet to bring it down," Sam argues.

"And not even a silver bullet, just a bullet bullet," Dean comments. The creature sits up and the guys quickly pull out to their guns, rapidly firing at it. The creature falls back onto the table and they all let out a relived breath.

"First one must have just stunned it," Bobby says.

"All right, well, let's check its Hulk pants for some ID," Dean says, moving forward. He searches the creature's pants, before finding a goo covered wallet. "Ugh, that is just gonna ruin the leather."

Sam takes the wallet out his hand. "Are you feeling okay," Bobby asks Dean.

"Yeah, I feel great."

"Gerald Browder, uh, lived here in town, 5'9, brown hair and blue eyes...235 pounds," Sam reads from the driver's license.

Addison's gaze widens. "I wonder what kind of diet he was on."

"Well, apparently, he's lost a little pudge," Bobby comments.

Dean laughs. "Maybe it's a - a lap band side effect." Addison snorts and leans against him.

Bobby and Sam stare at them. The older hunter picks up a stick and prods the bullet wounds on the creature. A grey goo seeps out of the wounds. "What the hell? I think we better have a look under Gerald's hood."

A while later, Addison is sitting on the couch. Sam and Bobby were standing by the table, examining the creature's chest. "God," Bobby exclaims. "Its organs are swimming in the stuff."

"You guys getting hungry," Dean asks, entering the room with a glass of whiskey. "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Addison brightly says. Dean flops down next to her and she snorts in amusement.

"What's that," Sam asks, touching an organ.

"His stomach. For a guy on a diet, Gerry here packed it in pretty good," Bobby says, cutting open the stomach.

"That's human right there."

"That's fresh Rick. Let's see. Plus..." Bobby reaches in and pulls a few objects covered in goo. "A pine cone? Pack of gum in the wrapper."

Sam pulls out a piece of flesh. "That's - that's older. Maybe like a - maybe Ranger Phil or the camper."

"What's that?"

Sam picks it up the object. "Looks like a - yeah, that's a - that's a cat's head."

"A glamper or two is one thing, but you got to be damn hungry to eat a cat's head." Sam nods in agreement. "Well, look it here. I'm no Dr. Oz, but..." Bobby pulls out a large, black object. "I think that's his adrenal glands."

Sam frowns in confusion. "Okay. And?"

"Meant to be the size of hotel bar stop and bright orange."

Sam exhales, trying not to breathe in the smell. "All right, that might help explain the strength. Um, but whatever this thing is, it's not the Jersey Devil, but it sure as hell ain't Gerald Browder anymore."

"Okay, guys, seriously. It's time for dinner," Dean asks, looking between Sam and Bobby. Addison laughs and leans against Dean.

* * *

Addison moans in delight as she takes a bite of the turducken slammer. Dean had ordered the same sandwich and was eagerly digging into his. Bobby and Sam had opted to just have coffee. "Gerald Browder, thirty-five, self employed. Air conditioning repairman," Sam reads from his laptop. "Missing person number three. Disappeared eight days ago."

"Well, that explains all the people who got eaten in the last eight days," Bobby replies.

"Yeah. Question is, what happened to him?"

Dean groans and continues chowing down. Sam stares at him. "Dean. Uh, so, what do you think?"

"I'm not that worried about it," Dean replies, through a mouthfull.

Bobby frowns. "Excuse me?"

"That's funny, right? I could give two shakes of a rat's ass. Is that right? Do rats shake their ass or is it something else?"

Sam looks around the restaurant. The majority of the customers were eating the same sandwich as Dean and Addison. "Give me that," Sam says, ripping the sandwich out of Dean's hands.

"Whoa, whoa! Why?"

Sam reaches for Addison's sandwich, but she quickly moves it out of his reach. "No," Addison says, taking another bite. Bobby grabs it out of her hand. "Bobby! Get your own sandwich!"

"There's some funky chicken in the TDK slammer, ain't there," Bobby asks, examining the sandwich.

"Yeah," Sam replies. He sniffs the sandwich and shakes his head. It smelt just like the adrenal glands from Gerald Browder.

* * *

"This is stupid," Dean says, as they walk into the house. Addison huffs and sits down on the couch. "Our sandwiches didn't do anything. I don't know what you think you're gonna find."

Bobby drops the tin foil swan on the table. "There's something wrong with both of you, Dean," he says as Sam unwraps the sandwich.

"Are you kidding? I'm fine! I - I actually feel great. The best I've felt in a couple months. Cas? Black goo? I don't even care anymore. And you know what's even better? I don't care that I don't care. I just want my damn slammer back."

"I want some cheesy poofs," Addison says. "Dean, get some cheesy poofs."

"You guys are completely stoned, just like Ranger Rick was," Sam counters.

"Just like the dinner rush back at Biggerson's. And everybody's loving the Turducken," Bobby continues.

Suddenly, goo bubbles out of the sandwich. "I think you pissed off our sandwiches," Dean comments.

Addison gasps as more goo comes out. "That's in us? That's not good."

"Only half of it," Sam reassures.

Bobby looks at the goo. "Does that snot look familiar?"

"Okay, so whatever turned Gerry Browder into a pumpkin head and is currently turning Dean and Addison into a couple of idiots-"

"Hey," Addison interrupts.

"We're right here," Dean says. "Right here."

"Is in the Turducken Slammer at Biggerson's," Bobby continues, ignoring them.

"Yeah."

"Its in the meat."

"If I wasn't so chilled out right, I would puke," Dean comments.

"I still want some cheesy poofs," Addison says. "Sam, get some cheesy poofs."

* * *

Sam glances in the back of the van to see Dean and Addison asleep. He was worried about them, but he was more worried about his older brother. "How are they doing," he asks, glancing at the older hunter in the driver's seat. Currently, they were staking out the Biggerson's restaurant.

"They're sleeping it off," Bobby replies. "Tryptophan coma."

"So, you think they're okay?"

"Yeah, they're all right."

"Think the baby will be okay?"

"Yeah, the baby'll be fine."

"Good. So, you don't worry about Dean?"

"What, you mean before the turducken?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I kind of mean more like, uh...more like ever since my head broke and we lost Cas. I mean, you ever fell like he's - he's going through the same motions but he's not the same Dean, you know?"

"How could he be?"

"Right, yeah, but what if-"

"What if what, Sam? You know, you worry about him. All he does is worry about you. Who's left to live their own life here? The two of you - aren't you full up just playing Snufflupagus with the Devil all the live long?"

Sam shrugs. "I don't know, Bobby. Seeing Lucifer's fine with me."

Bobby glances at him. "Come again?"

"Look, I'm not saying it's fun. I mean to be honest with you, I - I kind see it as the best case scenario. I mean..." Sam presses down on the scar on his hand. "At least all my crazy's under one umbrella, you know? I kind of know what I'm dealing with. A lot of people got it worse."

Bobby shakes his head. "You always were one deep little son of a bitch."

A delivery truck pulls around the back of Biggerson's. "Wait, wait, wait," Sam says. "Here we go." They watch as the driver unloads crates from the back and wheels it into the restaurant. A few minutes later, the truck drives away.

Bobby starts the van. "Well, I guess we follow him."

* * *

Addison groans and throws an arm over her face as she lays in the back of the van. Her head was killing her and had been since she had woken up. Dean had been drinking a constant stream of coffee since he woke up. "That's weird, right," Sam says. "I mean, national franchise like Biggerson's getting meat from a place that looks like it wholesales Hong Kong knockoffs."

"It's more than weird," Addison replies. She winces as a sharp pain shoots through her lower back.

"All right, well, I guess we wait till they close up shop, go take a look around?"

"Hang on," Bobby says as a car pulls up.

"No," Sam states watching as Edgar climbs out of the car. "Edgar."

"Leviathans," Dean states. Edgar opens the trunk of his car and pulls out a hooded man. "Son of bitch."

"What the hell is going on," Bobby asks, lowering the binoculars.

* * *

Dean's slowly drinking his coffee as he and Bobby sit in the van. Sam was doing some recon while Addison was taking a bathroom break. "There's nothing happening back here at all," Sam says over the speaker coming from Bobby's phone.

"Yeah, okay, Sam. They're pretty dug in, so you just finish circling and head on back," Bobby replies, then hangs up his phone. He tosses his phone in the empty cup holder. "How's your head?"

"Well, I think the Slammer has pretty much wore off," Dean says. "In between that and the twenty cups of coffee, I'm nicely tense and alarmed."

"I wasn't talking about that."

Dean stares at the man he considered a second father for a moment. "Oh, Bobby, don't go all Sigmund Freud on me right now, okay? I just got drugged by a sandwich."

"I wanna talk about your new party line."

"Party line? What are you talking about? I don't even vote."

"The world's a suicide case. We save it, it just steals more pills."

"Bobby, I'm here, okay? I'm on the case. What's the problem?"

"I've seen a lot of hunters live and die. You're starting to talk like the dead ones, Dean."

"No, I'm talking the way a person talks when they've had it. When they can't figure out why they used to think all this mattered."

"Oh, you poor, sorry - you're not a person."

"Thanks."

"Come on, now. You tried to hang it up and be a person with Lisa and Ben. And now here you are with a mean old coot and a van full of guns. That ain't person behavior, son. You're a hunter. Meaning you're whatever the job you're doing today. Now, you get a case of the Anne Sextons, something's gonna come up behind you and rip your fool head off. Now, you find your reasons to get back in the game. I don't care if it's love or spite or a ten dollar bet or for Addison and your kid. I've been to enough funerals, I mean it. You die before me and I'll kill you."

Dean stares for a moment. "We need to scrape some money together, get you a condo or something."

The side door opens and the hunters turn to see Sam and Addison. "Addison's in labor," Sam says, helping her into the van.

"No, I'm not. It's - it's - it's the Braxton Hicks," Addison argues as Sam climbs into the van. "I'm fine. Besides, there's something big going on."

Dean and Bobby turn back to see numerous black SUVs pull into the parking lot. "Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt," Bobby says, watching a man in a suit climb out of an SUV. "It's Dick fucking Roman."

"Who the hell is Dick fucking Roman," Dean questions.

Sam grabs his laptop and a few minutes later, they're watching a news story about Dick Roman, the CEO of Richard Roman Enterprises. Addison, who was now sitting in the driver's seat, takes a deep breath and rubs her belly. Sam shoots her a concerned look.

"Holy shit. What the hell is that," Dean asks.

"That's one of the top fifty most powerful men in America," Sam answers.

"Says here top thirty-five as of last month. Now it's all making sense. Remember when Crowley kept going on about hating Dick? I thought he was just being general."

"Well, if the Leviathans got to him, then that means they're playing on a much bigger board than we were thinking," Bobby tells him.

"So what then? I mean, we can't exactly outgun them," Sam replies.

"No. But we got the drop on them. Means we got a chance to figure out what these guys are really doing here."

A snapping sound causes Dean to turn where Bobby was putting something together in the back. "Whoa, where did you get that mother?"

"Ah, it's on loan from Frank's Big Brother collection," Bobby replies, examining the oversized microphone. "It'll pick up vocal vibrations from window glass at half a mile. Well, it's time to find out what these ugly bastards are up to."

"And I'll man the van," Addison says, tightly gripping the armrest.

Sam sighs and looks at his older brother. "Look, if you want to get her to the hospital-"

"I'm not in fucking labor, Sam," Addison snaps. "So shut the fuck up and leave me alone!"

Dean clears his throat. "All right, well, let's get to work."

* * *

"Our side's still dead, Bobby. Anything with you," Dean asks as the trio sits in the van. He watches as Addison takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out before exchanging a knowing look with Sam.

"Yeah, same here," Bobby replies over the phone. "I got...hold on. Yeah, I got movement. My side, second floor, meeting room."

Addison groans and leans forward. Dean sighs. "Ads-"

"Dick's meeting with the doctor from Sioux Falls," Bobby tells them.

"Yeah, I'm in labor, but it doesn't matter. My contractions are like nine minutes apart. We have a few hours before I have to be at a hospital," Addison says. "And I'm sorry for yelling at you, Sam."

Sam places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's all right, Ads."

"What's happening now," Dean asks, turning his attention back to the Leviathans.

"Wait," Bobby replies. "Now I have officially seen it all."

Sam frowns. "Bobby, what is it?"

"He's making the doctor eat himself."

Addison stares at the phone. "What?"

"He's-"

"Bobby," Dean asks. "Bobby!" He snaps his phone shut and climbs out of the van with Sam.

* * *

Addison takes a deep breath and rubs a hand over her belly. She had been waiting for the boys and Bobby to come back. "You have really shit timing, Munchkin," she groans as another contraction hits.

The driver's side door door is ripped open and she looks to see Dean. Addison scoots over to the passenger seat while Sam climbs into the back. The moment the door is closed, the van's peeling away from it's hiding spot. They arrive near the warehouse just as Bobby runs out of the building. The older hunter climbs into the van just as Dick Roman walks out of the building. Dick manages shoot at them a couple of times before they speed off.

"Son of a bitch," Dean breathes. "I'm glad you got in. He almost took your fucking head off."

"Dean, we need to find the nearest hospital," Addison says.

"Bobby's been shot," Sam tells them.


	10. Death's Door

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Chapter 10 - Death's Door

Addison groans as a contraction hit. This was not how she pictured this happening. It was supposed to be a happy occasion in a hospital with drugs available. Not sitting in the front seat of a van, with Dean frantically driving and Sam in the back with Bobby, who had just been shot in the head by Dick Roman. "I'm not an idiot, Dean," Sam snaps. "I know first aid for a fucking bullet to head!"

"I need the nearest trauma center," Dean yells into his phone.

"Hold on," Sam says, pressing down on the wound on Bobby's head. "Hold on."

"What's the address," Dean shouts and is rewarded when an automated voices tells him directions. "All right, Bobby, hang in there." The van skids around a curve as Dean presses down on the gas. Addison reaches over and digs her nails into his thigh. "Ads, what the fuck!"

"You do that one more time and I will put my fist through your face," Addison threatens.

"Bobby has been-"

"I know!" Addison takes a deep breath and places a hand on her belly. "I know, Dean. But driving like an insane person and getting into an accident will not help Bobby. Please, take it easy."

Dean doesn't say anything and turns his attention back to the road. Addison smiles. He was still driving way over the speed limit but was being a tiny bit cautious.

Twenty minutes later, they're pulling to a stop in the parking lot of the nearest hospital. Sam throws open the side door and he and Dean carry Bobby into the ER. "Somebody help," he shouts. "We need help! He's been shot!" The boys are pushed to the side as nurses and doctors load Bobby onto a gurney. They follow them into a trauma room and watch as they work on him. "What's happening?"

"Get them out of here," the doctor orders.

A nurse pushes the boys out of the trauma room. "You need to stay out of their way."

"That's our uncle," Dean tells the nurse.

"You gotta stay back."

"What are they doing," Sam asks.

"We need to get him stable."

"When are you gonna take the bullet out," Dean demands.

"If we can get the swelling down, if it's in a place we can get to, if-"

"If he even lives that long," Sam interrupts. The nurse pulls the curtains shut, effectively shutting the boys out.

* * *

Addison smiles as she walks up to the admissions desk. She had no idea where the boys were or how Bobby was doing. "Oh, God," she exclaims, doubling over.

"How far apart are your contractions," a nurse asks while another one brings over a wheelchair.

Addison shakes her head. "I - I - I don't know. They've been coming all day and - and getting stronger and longer. Oh, God, please tell me you can still give me the drugs."

"We're gonna get you upstairs and a doctor's going to examine you," the nurse tells her. Addison nods and tightens her grip on her small duffle bag.

* * *

Dean looks up when the doctor pushes open the curtains and walks out. He and Sam were waiting outside of the trauma room. He could see Bobby lying on a bed, with a bandages wrapped around his head and tubes going into his mouth. "He's, uh, stable for the moment. Just have to see," the doctor tells him, before walking away.

Dean looks at Sam and sees the worried look on his younger brother's face. He's certain that the look on his face is the same. "Mr. Winchester?" Dean turns to see a nurse standing behind him. "Your wife's upstairs. She was just admitted and a doctor's gonna taking a look at her."

Dean nods, remembering that Addison was in labor. His gazes goes between where Bobby was lying and the nurse. He runs a hand over his face and turns to Sam. "Call me the second anything changes." Sam nods and Dean follows the nurse.

Addison turns when the door of her hospital room opens. It doesn't take Dean long to cross the room and to be tightly embracing her. She rubs a soothing hand up and down his back. "How is he," she asks.

"Stable for now," Dean answers, reluctantly pulling away. "Did they say how long?"

"Don't know. It's gonna be a few hours. The doctor said I was only at five centimeters." Addison shifts in the bed. "If you wanna go back to Bobby-"

"Sam's with him. He'll call the moment anything changes," Dean interrupts, sitting down in the chair by her bed.

* * *

"So, there's nothing else we can do," Sam asks. Bobby's doctor had come to give him an update and it wasn't good.

"I'm sorry. We just have to see if the swelling goes down," the doctor says.

"How long?"

"It's hard to say in cases like this."

"But he's lasted this long. That's good, right?"

"Well, yes. Listen the bullet didn't shatter. Only one hemisphere of his brain was injured. These are all positive things. But I don't wanna give you false hope here. He's far from out of the woods. Most of the time, cases like this..."

"They die."

The doctor sighs. "Right now, it comes down to him. I'll keep you updated."

Sam nods and sits down in one of the uncomfortable chairs. He rubs his hand, the one with the faded scar. The one that reminded him that this was the real world and that he wasn't in the cage.

* * *

Dean watches as the nurse carefully hands the baby to Addison. He was wrapped in a white blanket and a blue hat covered his head. The only thing that Dean considered he had done close to perfect was when he rebuilt the Impala. But looking at his son, damn if he didn't feel like his son was perfect. "Go," Addison says. He looks at her. "Go check on Bobby."

"Sam would've called if something had changed," Dean counters.

"I know. But I know that you won't feel better until you see with your own eyes. So, go check on Bobby and Sam. Me and Munchkin will be fine."

Dean runs a hand over his face. He presses a kiss to the top of Addison's head and then makes his way out of the room. He finds Sam sitting outside of Bobby's room. "How's he doing?"

"The same," Sam answers, standing up. "Swelling hasn't gone down."

"Well, that's good, right?"

Sam shrugs. "It is, but the doctor said that we just have to wait and see. How's Ads?"

"She and the baby are fine," Dean replies, looking in Bobby's room.

"Excuse me." The boys turn to find a man in a beige suit standing behind them. "Sorry to interrupt. Is one of you Robert Singer's next of kin?"

"That's me. Why?"

"Can we talk privately?" Dean nods and the man leads him the waiting room. "We know this is a stressful time."

"Look, no offense, you can skip garnish. His insurance lapse or what?"

The man clears his throat. "We're sorry to ask, but, um, did your uncle ever make his wishes known in regards to organ donation?" Dean stares at the man. "Organs are only viable for a very limited window."

"Viable?"

"Uh, we're just hoping some good can come of this tragic situ-"

Dean glares at the man. "Listen to me. I'm gonna say this once. He's not gonna die. It's one bullet. He's gonna be fine because he's always fine."

"I apologize."

"Why are you talking to me like he's gonna die? Huh? I do my job. Do your jobs. Save him."

"They're doing everything they can."

Dean slams a fist into the directory board behind the man's head. "Walk away from me. Now!" He stands there while the man quickly leaves, then walks out of the hospital. He didn't care what some hospital suit thought. Bobby was gonna be fine. Dean stops when he notices a black town car waiting in the parking lot. He moves towards the car, anger filling him. "Dick! I know you're in there." He pounds on the window. "Come on out, you dick." The window rolls down and Dick Roman smirks at him. "What, did you come here to finish the job? Yeah? Well, come on. Right here, right now, out in the open. You and me, Dick Roman." Dean doesn't have to look to know that people in the parking lot are taking photos of the confrontation. "See? Deciding to jump a famous guy ain't all upside. You can kill me right now, you wanna see it online."

"You should go check on that friend of yours. He can't be feeling too frisky right about now. I'm a very good shot," Dick replies.

Dean steps towards the car. "We're coming for you. And not just to hurt you, to kill you. You understand me?"

"Come on, Dean. I can't be killed."

"You're gonna wish you could, then."

Dick chuckles. "That's some conviction. You'd really crust it on the motivational circuit."

"You're either laughing because you're scared or because you're stupid. I'll see you soon, Dick." Dean turns and walks away from the Leviathan.

* * *

Sam stares into Bobby's room. Bobby's condition seemed to be improving, but he didn't mean the old hunter was out of the woods yet. "Hey." Sam turns and finds Addison standing behind him. "How's he doing?"

"You should be resting, Ads," Sam replies, turning back to look at Bobby.

"Yeah, but I wanted to see how he was doing. Where's Dean?"

"Some guy wanted to talk to him, but that was a couple of hours ago."

"Oh."

"How's the baby?"

"He's fine. He's got ten fingers and ten toes. He's up in the nursery."

Heavy footsteps near them and they turn to see Dean. "What'd that guy want," Sam asks.

"Nothing. Just some insurance mook," Dean answers. "Dick Roman was out there."

"What happened," Addison questions.

"Nothing. For now. It was just a fucking staring contest. That was about it. What's the update?"

"Swelling's down a little. Um, they took him off sedation. Apparently, he started fighting his tube so they pulled them out. He's breathing on his own," Sam explains.

"That's good, right? Is that good?"

"Yeah. Well, doctor said best case scenario."

"All right, so when are they gonna take the bullet out?"

"Dean, they're not even - they're not even gonna try that, not yet."

"What does that mean?"

"The word's 'abrading,' I think."

"English."

"Cutting out the dead brain tissue. That's if the doctor even thinks it's worth the risk. Can I talk to you guys?"

"What? Talk about what?"

"You know what."

Dean shakes his head. "No, we're not gonna have that conversation."

Addison sighs. "Dean, we need to."

"He's not gonna die, Ads."

"He might," Sam tells him.

"Sam."

"Dean, listen. We need to brace ourselves."

"Why?"

"Because it's real."

"What do you wanna do? You wanna hug and say we made it through it when Dad died? We've been through enough," Dean argues, then walks away. Sam sits down in one of the hard plastic chairs and Addison comfortingly rubs his shoulder.

* * *

Addison walks over to Dean and wraps her arms around him. She hadn't expected to see him standing out the nursery on the way back to her room. She buries her face in his back and feels some his tension release. "Liam Robert," he asks.

"Liam was my dad's middle name and Robert's for Bobby," Addison softly explains.

"He's not gonna die, Ads."

"I want to believe it too, Dean. But you have to be realistic and there's a chance that he could." She sighs. "You gotta hope for the best, but prepare yourself for the worst."

Dean pulls out of her embrace. "You should get some rest. I'm gonna head back to Bobby's room."

Addison leans up and softy kisses him. "I love you."

He wraps an arm around her shoulders and holds her close. "I know."

* * *

Sam exchanges a look with Dean as a couple of nurses head into Bobby's room. "Wait, wait, wait," Sam says and one of the nurses turns to him. "What's happening?"

"He's showing signs of responsiveness. We're taking him up for surgery. If you wanna see him, I'd squeeze in there quick," the nurse replies.

The boys rush past the nurses and into Bobby's room. Neither of them say anything as they stand next to Bobby's bed. "Sorry. We need to get moving," the nurse tells them.

"Right. Yeah," Dean says.

"Hey, um," Sam begins, looking at Bobby. He grabs the older hunter's hand. "Bobby, hey, um, just...thanks. For everything."

"All right," the nurse asks. "Please step back."

Dean nods. "Yeah."

Sam feels something grab his hand and he turns to see Bobby's eyes open. "Wait, wait, wait, stop. His eyes are open."

The boys crowd around his bed. "Bobby," Dean asks.

Sam places a hand on his shoulder. "Hey."

Bobby rips off the oxygen masks and gasps. "Don't talk. Don't talk. A pen," Dean says, looking around. He grabs the board hanging at the end of the bed and pulls off the pen. "Here, here, here." He hands it to Sam, who then hands it to Bobby. "What is it?"

Panting, Bobby grabs Sam's hand and writes down some numbers. Once finished, he looks up at the boys. The boys that he considered his own sons. "Idjits," he whispers. His eyes close and the heart monitor lets out a long beep.

"Bobby? Hey!"


End file.
